There was no funeral, no church service, not even a token memorial to mark the end. Yet, grief and mourning ripped through the rider as the darkness of death surrounded his "spirit".
He was not ready to die. He feared it and fought it... at least to the extent any rider tries to. Coming to the realization that there is something out there, bigger than him, throws him into yet another spiritual turmoil.
Wondering (why?)... his body moves slowly and not without suffering, as he tries to negotiate himself into a more comfortable position.
Most have called him lucky and many remind him of second chances not often given, but yet he lingers in the vast sea of uncertainty. Questions without answers bind his soul from feeling free. "What did I do... What did they do... Just what the hell happened?" Trying to remember the accident left him frustrated beyond measure, as there is nothing in his mind to give the rider comfort... or shame. Just the lost hole of time, and the pain to bear with it.
Bruises fade and bones heal yet, the rider continues to struggle. The demons in his mind won't allow his "spirit" to soar free and while the rider is lost without the road, the man is still hungry for life. Seeking new avenues for adventure puts forth a challenge, but allows him to keep his eyes on the big picture. The man fights for survival in the abyss of self pity while finding comfort and strength in the support of his "foundation".
Coming to terms with difficult decisions can leave a man tired and broken and somehow, the promise of life still feeds him. The rider suffered immense loss, but the man has been spared. His desire to grow old and find happiness will eventually expel those demons and his "spirit" will find a way, once again, to fly free.
The man feels the grief... the sadness... and the loss... that this death brings.
The rider in him has died... but the man has not.