The Race

I saw a man run bold and fast

on this occasion he was passed

Thin his grin when others paused to gasp.

his screaming legs pushed and dashed.

I whispered: “Well run and done”. To the ground he crashed.

……………………………………………

“VICTORY!” Glory for toils spent and went. 

and yet…

……………………………………………

As the prize seeped down his face,

Other striders passed, still fast upon the chase.

No one paused or glanced amidst their haste.

Each one steadied with open pace.

……………………………………………

The crowd ran too: Onward, Upward, Toward sun and height.

Long and westward fixed in flight.

A massive herd fleeing loss and night.

Their striving thundered with speed and fright.

……………………………………………

Ambition veiled the good and bad.

This one laughing, that one sad.

A vengeful army chasing what they had.

Sprinting chaos. Sprinting mad.

……………………………………………

“No, No, No: Not this time… Not again.”

To his feet he rose bold and fast

on this occasion he was passed.

Thin his grin when others crashed.

His screaming legs pushed and passed.

A victor not to be. his wreath slipping the horizon last.