0-60A Poem by Lady Wolf
It rumbles, low, In the back of its throat. A purr. Content. Its handler grips the reins Adrenaline slowly spilling into his viens. He grows cold. Green! The beast is loosed Roaring, Skidding, Kicking up asphalt Biting Gone… © 2008 Lady Wolf |
Stats
234 Views
1 Review Added on April 22, 2008 Last Updated on April 22, 2008 AuthorLady WolfNowheresville, TXAboutI'm just a student who's always got her head in the clouds. But that's ok, because I find the most wonderful castles up there. more..Writing
|