Your Poetry Dot Com - Unholy Speed

Flying on the Harley, doin’ a hundred an’ somethin’,
I ain’t gonna stop, ‘til this heart quits its pumpin’

From the edge of my right eye, I see a solid white line,
A little more speed, I really must find,

Roll on the throttle, and turn up the heat,
For that bloodthirsty machine gun, under my seat,

The wolf in the wind, brings its fangs to bear,
Into my numbed face, they’re starting to tear,

The image in each mirror, is but a vibrating blur,
If you hafta chase danger, this may be your cure,

That’s all there is, I’m on top of gear five,
Geez, I think, It just came alive,

Faster and faster, went our unholy roll,
You see, for its speed, I rendered to it, my unspent soul,

I knew what this meant, but my lust, I couldn’t quell,
You’ll see the Bike in Heaven, you’ll find me, in Hell.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ JackM