When i stepped into the ring..
i didn't aim to fight..i came to win..
when i heard the commencing bell ring...
on the crown i set my sights...complacency in the bin..
When they threw the first punch...
i grimaced, then i stuttered...
then steadied and remained staunch...
red faced..pulse fast paced but resilience far from shattered...
Then i mustered my first jab..
aimed straight at the temples..
a mastered duck met it..life could sometimes be a crab..
headless to my combos..swish dodgy ensembles..
Get into the corner...
who? me? the challenge? or the umpire?
definitely not me.. i am not the destined loser..
ill fight on even if the straights get more dire..
I may not pick the round..
eventuality is cast in iron by my faith..
i sure will heave and hound..
but I WILL be the victor, no matter how late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
no matter how late, good poem. thanks.