The goalpost
The striker
The keeper....
He looks at the man ahead and breaks into a sweat
He has no fear.
He is prepared.
But then, so is he, probably even more than him
The clock ticks and defenses are drawn
Two people up in arms,
Two looks of grim determination
Muscles are tense
Throats are parched
A deep breath
And the calculated strike...
As one relaxes
The other tenses
Eyes follow the strike,
The brain works strategies to save
Breaths are deeper, shorter
The possibilities are endless,
The fear of loss gripping,
The hope of victory ever prevalent
Flying in the air IT carries the burden of immense joy & pain
With no agenda of its own and no dream to follow IT will break many
With no control on the outcome IT will decide for many...
IT is neither here nor there.
IT IS.
There is no justice
There is no victory
There is no hope
There is hope
There is victory
There is justice
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