Old loves never truly die. I roll along again and again... As the fates dictate. Lonesome Texas wind blows across the plains, old Poets to me did lie, for gentle rains does not wash pain away. Cold not clean. I have drank Jim Beam. Blue bonnets wait to be born in the Lone Star Sun, hiding in the Gulf Coast rain. I must again ride, a spiritual Tumbleweed rolling along aimlessly, a fool in love with a memory, two years gone. Dressed in leather, black; forced smiles to hide the pain, dark glasses to hide my tear drained eyes. The grey in my hair and beard, sing as to my trials, lines around my eyes to the Rat race miles. Rode to the strand, blown by winds with no where to go. Galveston Bay too is grey this day. The rain still falls, as life still calls. Alone by choice, her memory kept alive, wallowing in sadness of my own making. My rage hides in the madness of self appointed victimisation. Rolling along; wind swept; alone; wet; in the dark, wearing glasses dark. Baptised by road mist. Hiding my soul, as I bounce along, ribbons of a tar laden trek. A drift in Lifes wandering winds. Lost in the sea of self made misery, on Karmas sled. Dragged by currents; slammed by waves; yet, still afloat. Have I sinned? Will I again? To let go I must. Again to trust? So, tonight I will ride again to the war field of neon lights and give into lust. Before balls of blue do bust. Crushed by last nights dream, and tired of sleeping alone; armed with ice and Irish cream, I roll to nowhere. To a bar, to Riders of freedom, guided by a star. A asphalt sailor on a two wheel ship of steel; looking for a home and some kin. Like a tumbleweed, lost and alone I roll on... Her name was Kalynn...