He stands where the echoes of battle roar,
On fields of sweat, on tracks once sore.
Not just for glory, nor wealth, nor fame,
But for the fire that fuels the game.

Through dawn-lit drills and endless night,
He sharpens will, he learns to fight.
Each loss a lesson, each win a spark,
He carves his name in triumph’s arc.

Not just his strength, nor speed alone,
But heart and grit have paved his throne.
Through fractured bones and weary sighs,
Still, he dares—he never cries.

A sportsman falls, a sportsman bleeds,
Yet never yields to broken dreams.
For victory whispers to those who strive,
And legends rise where warriors thrive.