My Arena

Photography by Jody Waardenburg

Arms wide,
Head to toe,
Chin held high,
This is my body.

Thinning blood runs through my darkened veins,
Thickening hair atop my scalp,
Itching feet below it all,
This is my feeling.
A room neither wide nor narrow,
The sky stretching vastly,
The ground running freely,
This is my domain.

Clocks winding down,
Eyes are solely upon me,
My hand trembles slightly,
This is my time.
My consciousness grips reality,
My mind holds me to be true,
Never shall I abandon either,
This is my code.

Never questioning myself,
Serving to triumph above the odds,
And the doubts of others,
This is my belief.
A spotlight begins to shine,
While a crowd gathers,
Letting out a raucous roar,
This is my audience.

Muscles aching,
Chest heaving,
Fingers shaking,
This is my chance.
The shadow of another approaches,
In many ways he is superior,
In many ways he is inferior.
This is my equal.

One last spectacle is what they want,
The opportunity to see a battered man fall,
Die trying in the act of honour,
This is my realization.
He shares the same fear in his eyes that I have in mine,
I begin to charge onward,
Gazes locked we are aware of the outcome,
This is my clash.

Within the confines of my mind the battle ensues,
Me against myself,
Spiraling towards what I fear most,
This is my decision.
Regardless of anyone else,
There is only one individual who rules this land,
And none shall corrupt his aim,
This is my direction.

For every action I make,
And every step that I take,
Reflects all that I have at stake,
For this is my arena.

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