but it was the other way round.
He changed — or was changed —
into something never found.
No one really knows that song,
the thrum beneath the dark —
but once you’ve heard it,
you’ll know the mark.
Some say he’s gone,
some say he runs,
chasing dawn
through dying suns.
But if you drive too far, too late,
and feel the engine start —
don’t fear the road,
it’s just his spark.
Monster heart,
rolling loud,
Burning fast,
lost in the crowd.
Iron dreams,
gasoline skies,
Freedom screams
through broken ties.
Neon ghosts
in rearview glass —
every road
eats what he was.
Monster heart,
doesn’t fall apart —
fire was always
his truest art.
Ashes fall,
midnight rain,
every scar
still knows his name.
Chrome and bone,
engine cry,
he was born
built to die.
Through the smoke,
the mirror stares —
It’s him again,
but no one cares.
Monster heart,
beat and burn,
Every end
waits his return.
02.11.2025
rolling loud,
Burning fast,
lost in the crowd.
Iron dreams,
gasoline skies,
Freedom screams
through broken ties.
Neon ghosts
in rearview glass —
every road
eats what he was.
Monster heart,
doesn’t fall apart —
fire was always
his truest art.
Ashes fall,
midnight rain,
every scar
still knows his name.
Chrome and bone,
engine cry,
he was born
built to die.
Through the smoke,
the mirror stares —
It’s him again,
but no one cares.
Monster heart,
beat and burn,
Every end
waits his return.
02.11.2025
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