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Artwork (Digital) / Doodle
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 1280 x 1006
File Size 123.1 kB
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More from Aoshi2012
Livin' Wild *Digital*
Digital Art version of yours truly. ^^
Added some nice touches to help bring this to life.
Dupe and Artwork ©
aoshi2012
Added some nice touches to help bring this to life.
Dupe and Artwork ©
aoshi2012
Category Artwork (Digital) / Doodle
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 1280 x 1006px
File Size 123.1 kB
I gotta tell ya the truth, I liked the old version, but this one is definitely an improvement! I like the color scheme on this one better than the original. Yet the original has, somewhat better attention to details. This one has good attention to detail too though! Now I’m not giving negative criticism! It’s all positive on the contrary! It’s still better than the original in my opinion! But they’re both awesome in my opinion! 😎😎😎❤️❤️❤️
It may happen to any traveler a going 'bout their day,
They see a strange a brooding figure on his bike along the way,
Iron-eyed and darkly dressed, just zooming down the road,
A dox of no allegiance, custom, law, tribe nor of code.
He rides a horse that's spitting fire, its bones are made of steel,
Roaring like the bowels of hell, a sound that you can feel.
Sends a shiver down the spine of those who see him passing by,
Those who see the dusty rider and hear his mournful cry.
His face is fixed, expression cold, coat soaked with smoke and sweat,
He's riding hard to catch the sun, but hasn't got it yet,
He might well ride forever on those rivers made of tar,
The open road his only home as he travels wide and far.
So mothers warn their pups when the dox rides into town,
Not to point and not to cheer, their faces bear a frown.
For there is a secret that they bury deep inside,
That innocence be quickly shed and with him they might ride.
They see a strange a brooding figure on his bike along the way,
Iron-eyed and darkly dressed, just zooming down the road,
A dox of no allegiance, custom, law, tribe nor of code.
He rides a horse that's spitting fire, its bones are made of steel,
Roaring like the bowels of hell, a sound that you can feel.
Sends a shiver down the spine of those who see him passing by,
Those who see the dusty rider and hear his mournful cry.
His face is fixed, expression cold, coat soaked with smoke and sweat,
He's riding hard to catch the sun, but hasn't got it yet,
He might well ride forever on those rivers made of tar,
The open road his only home as he travels wide and far.
So mothers warn their pups when the dox rides into town,
Not to point and not to cheer, their faces bear a frown.
For there is a secret that they bury deep inside,
That innocence be quickly shed and with him they might ride.
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