Tis not the strongest who shall prevail.
Tis not a star-stuck lover’s eyes.
Tis not he who roareth the loudest,
Who taketh the victor’s prize.
It’s not how fast thou runneth, that maketh thee
the winner – a victorious man.
It’s not how skilled thou art,
That will give thee the upper hand.
It’s not how ‘advanced’ in technology thou art,
That will determine how battles are fought and won.
Numerical superiority wilt never ensure
That thou wilt be the overcoming one.
Tis not the damage thou canst hand out,
But rather the damage that thou canst take.
Tis not about the weight thou carry
But rather at what point thou wilt break.
Real victory comes with blood and tears,
The sweat from thy brow, the breath of thy lungs.
Driven by thy will and thy passion, the fighting man,
Vincible – fighting to the very end
So thou wouldst be a victor? Hast thou got what it takes?
You’ve dabbled in the pot, now join the high-stakes.
Will you join the legions of unnamed faces, who we shall never know?
Through the ancient halls of history, those who God only knows.
Unheard, unseen, unknown men and women who were real victors
Their blood, sweat, and tears bearing witness.
Those who God only knows?
Place one foot after the other, and start walking.
And as you feel your spirit soar, start running.
When the giants knock you down, keep crawling.
Onwards, forever forwards, never turn ’round.
Swallow up the fear that holds you down.
Cut the ropes, blow up the bridges, burn the boats to the ground.
Take on your greatest enemy – yourself!
Turn weakness into strength, turn the mountain upon itself,
Dare to face the ghosts of the past, no matter how painful they felt.
Let your spirit rise and take over
Never back down, never!
What we do here will echo forever.
You’ve dabbled in the pot, now join the highstakes,
Play against yourself to escape the hell that awaits!
Fight till the end, you will, a victor be made.
photo by Luis Sinco