gravel and white lines blurred past below,
the wind violently tore and caught in every unlucky crease.
his legs begged for mercy,
screamed in agony.
but still he burned on.
the lust for speed was greater than the pain,
and adrenaline coursed through his veins as he danced with death.
all that could be heard was the calming whir of wheels,
softly serenaded by the morning chirps of waking fowl.
the sun broke free of the damp, sluggish clouds,
gently warming his numb hands.
it was a moment of rare inexplicable euphoria,
a feeling that could only be refined from pure passion.
he was in a place where worry and pain
fell away like droplets on a lily.
no, this was where nothing could harm him.
except maybe road rash.
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