Wrote this for my Husband just before He passed away.

Diablos Run
There was a rain in the sky and a wind that cried like an unborn corpses howl. And the night was as dark as a witches heart wrapped in a sorcerers cowl. From out of the south came the sound of a beast riding over the wind. It screamed in fear and shook with fury and it cried like mortal sin. It was a shriek of soul fucked grief voiced in timeless dread. By spirits doomed at dark of moon to fuel Diablos sled. With the essence of their burning souls powering his mill. Satan rode where the black winds blow while the stromy heavens filled. Now the souls who grill in the devils mill in everlasting flame. Are all the left turn drivers who ever blocked a lane. And all the outraged daddies and the irate husbands too. All the jocks and traffic cops and ladies left unscrewed. Pompous little bureaucrats, hordes of courthouse clerks. Long nosed preachers and morals keepers and redneck jailers with quirks. Everyone whos ever done injustice to a bro . Sentenced to hell with an endless yell and to eternal woe. So thunder growled and a wild dog howled and the night turned bitter cold. For there is no warmth on the face of earth when the devils hunting souls. And of all the souls that Satan seeks he will himself declare. The best ones come from scooter bums and on that fact he swears. For a bikers soul is strong and bold with a will that will not weaken. And as Satan jammed cross the blackened land it was a biker he was seekin. Cause he wanted to put a stroker up and he needed a chopper child. One with pride enough to ride when the night was a hellish wild. The devil figured if he added a bro to all those soulsabitches. The fear and hate he would generate would bore it out a jillion inches. So he rode though the night and demons in flight kept watch from the rain choked sky. While he seached the roads of the lowlands and on the mountains high. He prowled the streets of cities asleep and he swept the countryside. But he couldn't find a scooter bum no matter where he tried. Until at last he reached the pass where snake mountain road began. Then through the swirling blackness the devil spied his man. High up on the mountainside going round a bend Satan saw a taillight flash and he grinned a devilish grin. Then he gave chase and the race was on up the twisting winding turns. While demons in flight made gleeful cries and souls in hellfire burned. Thunder rolled and crashed and roared and the wind did madly scream. Rain came down like drops of lead and the world was an acid dream. Trees uprooted and rockslides slid, oceans rose and fell. And from every church that ever was came the toll of graveyard bells. Halfway up snake mountain road boots high up on his pegs. Cutoff whipping out behind him and leather on his legs. Damning the pain of the icy rain the biker cocked an ear. And glanced across his shoulder to see what he could hear. He saw the light from his own taillight and heard the hellhounds bark. And he heard the devil coming up the mountain in the dark. He saw the inky blackness and the demons in the sky. He heard the ghost bells tolling and he heard the lost souls cry. Then the heavens split and the night was lit by a jagged lightning bolt. And what the biker saw next gave his heart a jolt. Satan came roaring around a turn on his screaming sled. But instead of chrome the forks were bone torn from the living dead. His chain was made of bloody teeth, his pipes were lengths of gut. And the bolts that held them on were screwed down tight by hairy nuts. Satan himself wore gory rags with a skull and crossbone patch. His earring was an asshole and his pinky ring a snatch . The bro said SHIT and geared to split then the night went dark again. And he knew he had a race to run, one that he had to win. So he jammed his stroker cap on tight with a grim look on his face. And with steely nerves for the winding curves the biker set the pace. He figured fast that it was his ass if the devil took the lead. So he put his trust in lady luck and rode at breakneck speed. The road was slicker than the slit of a slut and twisted like a snake. And the odds were all with Satan but aint that how it breaks. The biker ran those hairpin turns on hope and what the fuck. While the devil kept on coming and damned the bikers luck. For the rockslides didnt stop him and neither did the trees. And the driving rain didnt slow him down, nor did the hellbound breeze. So up snake mountain they raced until they reached the crest. With the biker running flat out and satan second best. They flashed across the mountain top and down the other side. The icy rain it turned to sleet and the bikers headlight died. The demons cheered and the devil sneered sure as hell he won. But the biker did a wheelstand and gave his scoot the gun. His speedo hit the redline and then the damn thing broke. As he hauled ass down snake mountain leaving satan in his smoke. The devil stopped and his eyeballs popped amazed as he could be. At the wide open run of the scooter bum down a road he couldnt see. Riding blind with the thought in mind that he gets only one mistake. The biker swerved around the curves and never touched his brakes. He rode by guess, by god and feel and he rode snake mountain down. And when he reached the bottom he turned his sled around. He gave a yell that challenged hell and raised his right arm high. As a bolt of jagged lightning flashed across the rolling sky. The biker clenched his uprasied fist and held his arm aloft. And with his middle finger he flipped the devil off. He said, "Hey devil on the level that race was pretty wild. But you have to make a better run to catch this chopper child". Satan shouted in reply, "We will run this race again. Next time i see you on the road when the night is black as sin. I'll run you down and pass your ass and then I'll take your soul. And I'll bake your bones for a thousand years in my hottest burning coal". The biker grinned and shook his head at Satans angry boast. And wondered why sore losers always seem to bitch the most. But thats the way its always been and how its bound to be. So the biker shrugged and rode away jamming loose, wild and free. From high up on snake mountain Satan watched him go. While the freezing sleet quit falling and the cold winds ceased to blow. Then the devil turned and the lost souls burned as he putted back to hell. And from far below came the last echo of the tolling graveyard bells. Now the moral of this epic yarn and one there is indeed. Is if you race the devil you better have the speed. You better have the courage and you better have the will. To damn the risk and never quit and beat the devils mill. Cause if he gets behind you riding hellbent for your ass. You dare not let him catch you and you dare not let him pass. For the rules of the run are only one, win it or your through. And if the devil gets ahead BRO thats all there is for you.

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