Some say a defeated soul
is like a wounded tiger;
it growls with growing grit.
The egoist self is greatly cut up
at the slightest disgrace and
broods over the hurt lion pride.
The real brave is one who springs up
from the deep pit of black debacle
and holds the heart to reach the azure pinnacle.
A defeat is like a lump of coal;
a fuel to fire and a new flame.
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