No Title Needed!

 The union of the dead,
riders of the darkness
brothers of white and red.

Ocean voices call
frozen thoughts in wind breath graves
highway sounds on wet paper
nomad rocker ever waves.

Ink and blood a bond,
by the brothers signed away,
dropped from the heaven book
the author cursed their names.

Now riders of the sky,
where night and shadows meet,
horizon of black lines
iron mounts with grinding teeth,

The hollow eyed men
hurry talking whisper voices
they breathe descriptions
of bullet speed and scooter choices

Ride forever, forever ride

If you need to ask - you don't need to know ;)