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The Fighter

Pushed, ambushed, annihilated and battered

From the struggles, strife and disdain

Yet unabashed, unruffled, untouched and unperturbed

Stays my soul in solitude though pained

The fire of the spirit nearly extinguished

Yet there remains a kindling spark

That I will yet again turn into a flame

Continue plodding, pushing and persevering I shall

Trust me or not, this is not the end of the game

I may halt a moment, stumble and fall

Albeit shall not stop, not recoil, relapse or retrieve

For my travails are endless, eternal and infinite

My pride are my success, glories and victories

My learnings are the failures, follies, debacles and defeats

The bruises, marks, traumas, wails and wounds

Makes the body a temple and the soiree the soul seeks

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