Rims and Tires

The rim of the turning bike,
Lets my heart stop.
Grime sticks and tempers the tire and my mind is tired,
But the days still go on as the sparkling rim.

Blaring horns come as they come and forewarn dangers,
The steamy rides of happiness and the crushing crash into crowds,
The changing landscape and the wavering traffic,
But the days still go on as the sparkling rim.

Tire did my mind,
My habits still tough to shake off as tars stuck on the tire,
My hurts still fresh as the thorn that poked fun on the tire,
The journey is deflating the tires and the soul is escaping.

Rim comes to a stop.
The tire is now just dangling flesh.
Come my soul now you can travel, out the pores of the skin.
Happy and away from the concrete and grime.

Through the gates

Through the gates I could see a distant image,
Of intrepid fear and unknown familiarity,
Tugging at my heart and sending a rhyme that rings pain,
Holding my flesh and detonating my soul.
Through the gates I could see a distant image,
Of silken hope and treacherous intent,
Searing my eyes and chilling my spine,
Barricading my breath and slurring my mouth.

All I could is grip my heart and hold a march,
Unworried of the image lit in future and the snare it fields.
All I want is to sing a tune and troop my soul towards purpose,
And take no notice of tarred nights and garish decoys.

Through the gates when I walk and when my eyes close,
Let the light from my path blind the image,
Let the blood worn thorns shout a scent of truth,
Let my nerves be tired and my nostrils be dusted with sweat,
Let me try more now so that when I walk through the gates,
Let me turn back and smile at the covered mile.