With engine revving and tires burning,  
A young disciple takes to the stage.  
His ATV, his trusted steed,  
As he prepares to amaze.

The crowd hushes as he begins,  
Flipping and twisting through the air.  
His balance unwavering,  
His skill beyond compare.

With each jump and each spin,  
The crowd cheers with delight.  
As he lands each daring trick,  
Their excitement reaches new heights.

The disciple's confidence grows,  
As he performs his final act.  
Leaving the audience awestruck.

With a roar of his engine,  
He speeds away into the straightaway.  
Leaving behind a crowd amazed,  
By his mastery and his might.

For the young disciple has conquered,  
His motorcycle and his fears.  
And now he rides with pride,  
As the crowd gives him deafening cheers.

Master and Disciples: Finale

In solitude's snowy embrace she stands,  
A figure etched 'gainst winter's shifting sands,  
A woman's dance with the storm she braves,  
Lost in the chaos, yet her heart craves.

The swirling winds whisper secrets untold,  
A story of love, of loss, of hearts grown cold,  
Her hair entwined in a frenzied waltz,  
The snowstorm her partner, in unspoken faults.

Her eyes, they glisten, like stars in the night,  
Forlorn and distant, yet beacons of light,  
She gazes upon the endless expanse,  
And in that moment, she dares to dance.

Her footsteps echo on the frosted ground,  
Each step a memory, a moment unwound,  
The snowflakes catch in the palm of her hand,  
A moment of peace, in a storm so grand.

A dance with the storm, a journey within,  
The snowstorm's embrace, a bittersweet hymn,  
In solitude's arms, a woman's heart sighs,  
A silent surrender, as the storm's song dies.

The tempest now spent, its fury subdued,  
A moody tableau, a fragile interlude,  
The snowflakes linger, a moment's reprieve,  
In solitude's snowy embrace, she breathes.

Lost in the Storm: Portrait of Solitude

In the labyrinth of the everyday,  
A stardust sparkle lights the way,  
Through the haze of the mundane,  
We search, we strive, we dare to gain.

A touch of magic, a hint of strange,  
The miracle within life's range,  
A whispered promise of something more,  
In the ordinary, the magic we store.

Haze of the Mundane (Station To Station)

Glass towers loom high,  
Suffocating storied past,  
New York's heart obscured.

Saudade

A world once rough, now soft and still,  
Where chrome and steel, once stood on the hill,  
The bikers roam, a symbol of pride,  
But their days are numbered, they cannot hide.

A young photographer stumbles upon their trail,  
A culture unique, a way of life, so bold and pale,  
But as he learns, he comes to see,  
The kindness hidden, the mastery.

With passion and grace, they teach the young the art,  
Of balancing on two wheels, from the very start,  
They soar with teacher, across the open road,  
The wind rushing past, with no heavy load.

But as they ride, he sees the change,  
The city grows, and their freedom rearranged,  
Gentrification brings a new world to dawn,  
Their homes lost, their culture gone.

He captures their essence, with each click,  
A legacy that won't fade or slip,  
A tribute to those who rode the night,  
A reminder of a world, now out of sight.

Yet, in his heart, he knows so well,  
Their spirit lives, their tales to tell,  
A culture unique, a way of life,  
Forever remembered, in this photographer's eye.

Master and Disciples

Industrial sprawl, the rider roars  
Forgetting all his troubles, he soars  
Doing burnouts with reckless abandon  
Letting the dust and smoke fill the canyon

His engine roars, the wheels spin fast  
The world around him, he’s left in the past  
For just a moment, he’s free from life’s stress  
A respite from troubles, he does confess

With each spin of the wheel, he forgets  
His worries, his fears, he’s left bereft  
In this moment, he’s in control  
A world where he’s king, taking charge of his soul

The crowd cheers, he rides on with pride  
The thrill of the moment, he can’t hide  
In this place, he feels alive  
With each burnout, he does revive

Forgotten are the struggles and the pain  
Replaced by the thrill of the drive and the terrain  
With his ATV, he’s free to be  
A man of strength, in control, he will always see.

svsnaps

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