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Jan 2010
The night of the fight,
Mind closed to the sights,
I dread counting lights.

Before the first round,
Ears closed to all sound,
Soon violence unbound.

Nerves make me shiver,
Heart starts to quiver,
Win by a sliver?

Start off like a shot,
Lungs burn icy hot,
Give all that I got.

With fire in the veins,
Let go of the sane,
Embrace the sweet pain.

With hand in the air,
I knew how I'd fare,
No feeling so rare.
Written by
Alex Gebhart
694
   Ian P Olexio
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