107 – Fireball

No fucking way
He would live
A quiet life.

Loud engines,
Loud guitars.
Loud demonstrations
For lost causes.

Loud life,
Loud sex,
Loud death?

A shooting star,
Across the bow
Of “good behavior”.

No heavenly gates
Waiting at the end
If this road.

Who needs salvation
When you’re a smiling fireball
On a collision course
With your own demons?

Faster, higher, louder.
Hell is just like heaven
After all.

Only, perhaps,
Less boring.

• • •

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