Afterwar Rider

Afterwar Rider short poem

Photo by simonov

A traveler from an antique land
Journeys through blistering, dry heat
Across oceans of sand and rock
Once well trampled by human feet.

Hear the long roar of his mount,
Power building in its steel lungs,
Belching fire and CO2 as it speeds up,
Gyrating, spiked rubber pummeling the ground.

This is a man with a mission.
He braves the sun pressing into him,
The stench of gasoline in his lungs,
With but a bindle and a gun to his name.

He rides through the endless desert,
Through what most would call death,
With hopes of sanctuary. Not just for him.
Because somewhere, he will always be needed.

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Ed Gosling

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My muse is like an excitable dog. It catches sight of totally random things and starts yapping and running around and wagging its tail and WILL NOT STOP until I write a poem about it.My poetry is sometimes based on personal experience and sometimes on other things. Aside from that, I enjoy video games (My favourite game series is Mass Effect) and the popular television show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
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