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Wrestling Match
I take the step into the ring.
The sharp whistle pierces my ear.
Only one of us can be king.
But still there's not an ounce of fear.
His hand crashes on my head.
But I flow around.
I'm the water in the river bed.
And my opponent is on the ground.
Calm is the secret to my power.
His efforts only work against him.
I fall around him like a gentle shower.
And from my calm does victory stem.
The match is over, my hand is raised.
I still feel the peace washing over me.
My teammates shower me with praise.
My soul has been set free.
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