The Boxer

as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

beaten, bruised, primordial ooze brutally seeping from my pores

ceaselessly is my flesh pulverized, yet rendered stronger

danger lurks, inching closer with every wicked punch

eyes of the world watch, cheer, knowing not my depth of pain

fights lined up, competitors eager, crowds going wild

God in his infinite mercy

hands me refuge for my inner demons

in his hands rest my broken human frailty

juxtaposed upon my smiling face, gnawing

kneeling tears become my constant companion

lament not for me, do not pity me, as

many ask, why? Why choose to live this way

no one knows why paths choose our broken psyches

oh, but they exist in every middling, lofty or lowly profession

pardon my insolence, but learned ones are broken too

quit judging me for who I choose to be

right, left, jab, spar, duck, parry, left, right

sweat soaked, the boxer trains, life depends upon it

too proud to accept the fat purse to take a fall

understanding that no pain, no gain

vendetta lurks for the next opponent

who last beat the holy crap out of him, almost lost that one

Xander in the corner rings the bell...fight!

yet again he/she beats them down, wins the battle

zero losses, glove drop, mic drop, opponent ko!