Thundering roar turns into scream
as it simply can give no more
push it on a little more
as every bit of thrill obtained
in release it drops off
as the scream quickly fades
and the pounding of the blood
to contemplate thought gives way
leather blacken by hard use
through many years once again
quickly moves to the task
presses quickly with eagerness
reset now once again
grows in new the thundering roar
quickly grows into the scream
as the blood pounds once again
wind does tear at tender flesh
streaming eyes and whipping curls
roaring off into the night
the biker goes on their ride
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The ups and downs of this poem are really heavy, and I think the death imagery is interesting, but overused. There's so many transitions, and I like it, but it's hard for me to keep track. good poem!