Bicycle

The Blood
The Sweat
stream
from my brow,
falling over it,
into my eyes.

The Tears,
The Sting,
distract.

I forget
for a moment
The Pain.

Exhausted, 
"I have nothing left."
I say 
to myself,
repeating 
in rhythm.
as the 
pedals revolve.

My feet 
are captive.
Nailed to 
each pedal.
Slavishly, 
they produce.
They 
push down.
They 
pull up.
Destroyed,
the legs above,
make it so.

The pair 
scream 
in agony, 
each one, 
yet they 
won't stop.

Commanded
are they,
by a sinister
force,
behind 
my sweated brow.

The devil 
within
controls 
my soul.

I run.
I ride,
from every
thing.
I run.
I ride,
from every
one.

Chased.
Yet 
I pursue,
pretending,
to be 
predator,
when 
in fact,

I am 
prey.

Still, 
I never 
relent,
I never 
admit,
I will not,
I can not.

I have not,
the desire.

To wrest 
from 
my soul,
that which
shall rest 
my soul.

The sting 
in my eyes,
reminds me,
I have 
so far to go.

I journey on,
my journey-long
devastated
and 
full of joy.