The smell of sweat invaded all his senses,
but the roar from the stands was worth every bit.
His seconds stared deep into his eyes,
a penetrating gaze, as they said words that may keep him standing.
The bell rang, an echoing signal, the cheers insignificant,
the only two beings that remained were the men in the ring.
Every push up, every crunch, every pull up, every punching bag,
every mile, every skip, every squat, every spar leading to one moment.
Winning the only option, fall, get up, repeat. land punches to a beat.
Tell himself he is invincible, make it true.
Draw his arm back, land a hard two.
Step back, dodge a right hook, guards up, blood wherever he looks.
Every moment an opportunity new, one one two, one one two.
Arms are aching, it’s toll the bout is taking, but history is in the making.
The second bell announces the time,
End of the first round, time to lose the rhyme.
The seconds look into his eyes again, now blue and swollen,
Arms massaged, he spits blood and a gum-shield
“What the f*** are you doing?!!”, the only voice echoing in his head
He knew he was losing, now it was time to win
falling was only human, not getting up, a sin.
Rhyme’s back, with the second bell,
round two of the heavenly hell.
The ones and twos land in quick succession,
payback for every punishing workout session.
He had trained too hard to let himself fail,
running through storm, sleet, rain and hail.
He took a two to the jaw, the crowd stared in awe as he got up once more.
Round three, four, five, six, twelve, his head was aching, back was sore.
Blood in his mouth, rage in his eyes, fire in his heart
vowing to not defeat the enemy but to tear his limbs apart
He charges, His head screaming “I will end this bout!”
One two three four five six seven eight, knockout!
He had a hard time believing this was not in his head,
well fought blue, the winner is red.
His second walks up to him, weaving through the crowd.
“Coach, I hope I’ve done you proud.”
And with that the boxer collapsed, exhausted, spent,
Someone screamed, a cry for help, but to no avail.
The boxer was glad that he breathed his last, but did not fail.


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