Sartre could have taken Ghandi

In a burger eating contest,
or a bar fight;
they are dead.

No matter who you are,
you will die.

Torch your temples,
set fire to the preachers,
and **** on ash.

Embrace it.
Welcome this conflagrative absolve.

And it all amounts to nothing.
It starts where it ended.
Never known for what but
for who.
A bike made for two.
Road alone and long
In the crack you shouldn't have
and the space you never fill.
Its teaming.
Flowing and running and going
never stopping like
emotion
not rational.
Freestyle what they see
they are society.
They are what they say you shouldn't.
You want to be
what you wont accept.