The bikes rusted brakes creaks out a voice 

pleading for oil like a Dracula in need of blood.

The mudguards failed to protect the flattening wheels; A knight that fails to fight.

Rigged spokes digged into the soft silver birch tree.

As if they were lumberjacks in a jungle.

The delicately decorated handlebars cut at the touch of a finger like a sharpened sword.

The brown chains wrapped around the spiked wheel.