Over the horizon racing with the rays of the sun
I see a speck growing in size and sound
He touches your soul as he whizzes past
For sure, The Biker God has arrived.
As he dismounts from his mechanical stead
He is greeted with admiration, awe and jealousy
Couldn't care less, as he takes a deep puff and let's out rings of smoke
The circle of life of mortals; The Biker God ponders on his next destination.
The scars on his face and lines on his forehead
Remind that he is no showoff but a respected rider
One who has cheated death at corners and made peace with the Devil
Yet seen sights and people to behold; experience and wisdom his pillion.
His bike is his legacy and he a legend
The helmet and gloves his armor' as he throttles and pulls down his visor
The Bard sheds a silent tear of joy, and with folded palms cries out
"Make way ye novice, The Biker God has arrived."
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