Swollen veins, throbbing heart
face taut, eyes hard
A body built to fly,
a mind fit for war
Waiting can be a torture,
patience a thorn
Idleness is a burden
like chaining wings to the ground
The sweat drips slowly
of excitement not fatigue
While the hands shudder
with the life inside urging for flight
What brings a smile is a simple thought...
The edge is near and I feel my wings willing and strong.
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1 comment:
what i find beautiful is that you make the entire idea/concept of a fight appear almost as if it were a dance, a creative expression, not of wrath or menace, but of technique, skill and pace...
the tension, the urge, the actual reality, seems milder, softer, almost like a filter for a photo! :)
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