the competition starts as you're born
its championship's not foresworn,
the gun is fired on very first morn
the finish-line reached as others mourn

on the way you'll find much to nettle
there to prove your grit 'n mettle
if moral compass's in fine fettle
you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal

if you fall on the way, help is at hand,
that too is innate, divinely planned,
it's human nature, you'll understand,
just keep on, maintain your stand

as best can be, that's all that's required,
try not to look if you're being admired,
do as your soul is heavenly inspired,
until you're tired, all strength retired

then soul ascends with all it's acquired,
the bruises of life, as medals, attired,
and as the spirit is gently expired,
G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.