By Shawn Marc B. Carreon
Sweat trickles from the
corners of my eyes,
A droplet slipping past, not your vigilant guard.
Reaching for glory with an unwavering sigh,
Weaving tales, layered like hardened lard.
In the ring, a battle against two people,
The opponent and yourself,
a dance so lethal, every punch a narrative that echoes and flows,
Unique stances, seemingly simple but crucial.
Hit and don’t get hit is the essence of the fight,
One’s mindset shaping the outcome’s thread.
Fearless resolve, powering through the fight,
Defense not of hatred,
but to block dread.
As adrenaline fades,
the tale is told,
Victory and defeat walk hand in hand,
Between the lines, a story unfolds.
Will triumph’s fruits be mine to garner?,
Or will defeat scorch the tree I’ve so lovingly grown to?
