Quiet Wins

I’m promising her I’ll notice

The grains of sand
One by one falling away

The fog, that had cooled her head
Rolling back, uncool, after all

The once-silent roar
The power regained

Now since she’s picked up her mat

Winning Season

I’m patient
And there was endless music before you
I recall it played on and on
But I didn’t listen much
And I could get shit done and not hear
Propagandists whining feigned blues
Questioning my faithfulness to the sport
My heart’s whereabouts, my stamina
Like the notes and rhythm were Satan
And I was a modern-day Job
Let history repeat itself if it must

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grand loser

The one that rocked eternity
Is all they’ll see
Hope converted you, love converted me
I in black, you in white 
To holy onlookers delight 
The race set out before this night
We have long since won
The task at hand, my fiery-one
Persuade the other souls to run