Religiously he takes his mark,
Upon the podium for all to see,
He waits for the cue,
Knowing all too well that he will win.

As the whistle blows he is submerged,
Face first into the cool depth of oasis,
Winning the war with the enemy,
Pushing and pulling.

Well-conditioned breathing,
The last leg, a lap ahead,
The thoughts begin to seep in,
He cautiously hit the wall.

Showering, the thought badgers him,
He turns off the pump to his vital blood,
Accidentally looking in the mirror,
He is ashamed of his reflection in the mist.

He recalls the conversation,
A single tear rolls down his check,
Landing on his bear chest where his swollen heart resides,
He feels the pang in his stomach.

How could she leave him?
His only love,
He dives into the waterlogged hall of people,
The insignificant gold hangs around his neck.

As he is congratulated,
Everyone is feeling joy for him,
As he drowns,
Left breathless in the air.