The Road

Pitter patter of the rain
Lonely lamp post gazing the slithering road
A biker goes, where to his wishes take

Thoughts of a day gone by
Folded hearts and open sky
A few last cigarettes would help the night go by

The days never start and the nights never end
Vaccum engulfs the heart, eyes askance
Ride fast, there’s still a chance

If waking up is an illusion
Can death be a reality?
The biker has still some miles left to ride.