Wreckage

Has he even noticed? Or does he even care? This car is turning, racing but we're going nowhere. He steps on the gas, my heart begins to flutter. We're free falling fast, but without God's ruder. Crashing, falling, braking, down deep into the valley. Once alive but now dead to me is this old lifeless rally. I step out of the wreckage and far away from the liar. The flame is relit and with passion burns this fire.