The stains of sweat,
The screams of pain,
The breath of exhaustion,

The clanking lead,
The eyes of flame,
The perfect concoction.

Just like the diamond is made in the most brutal circumstances,
A bodybuilder can only be if he takes these chances.

It is a dream, it is a passion, it is a lifestyle,
Suffering at the end worthwhile.

Bodybuilding is not a sport, much more an art,
And the gymnasium is the studio where it takes part.

Where man stares himself in the mirror,
And sees a masterpiece,
And starts carving here a there,
Building piece by piece,

A little more here, a little less over there,
Carve here, build there.

And just like the grand paintings, this art takes years in the making,
Years of discipline will power, and lots of aching.

But in the end, you see the result,
A statue has been built, which is almost occult.

A statue made of muscle, bones, and veins,
Made with discipline, valor, and strains,
Standing on the glory and victory obtained.