One more round

Till the end

A fight is not always won.
By a hardest hitting one.
It’s won by that exhausted unfit.
Who dares to take the hardest hit.

Where the fight is me against life.
So Bruised by no punch or knife.
Yet Do not choose to sit in bound.
I stare and invite for one more round.

The pain in the blows that I take.
Mocks my opponent’s will to break.
Though I stay low than my might,
Yet I know I won’t loose till I fight.

The rumbling blows on my jaws of will,
My shaken yet firm feet proves it’s skill.
Waving glow calls with gesture it found.
Relentless to fight just one more round.

Knock outs feeds the determination
To raise to fight again.
It’s the fear that’s fled out of me,
Makes me numb and immune to pain.

I Summon my last willing breath of sorrow.
And give in all like there’s no tomorrow.
Not with my fall ,this brawl is ending.
I shall and will be the last man standing.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

In your poem, you describe life as a fight. Sometimes it can be a long struggle & you’ve shown us how this might feel, using a ton of expressions helping us feel how determined the narrator is to win the fight. I can feel the struggle in the way you state your words. My favorite part is that your poem ends on a hopeful note, tho (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Chris Shaw]

"Like the phoenix, I shall rise." That's what I thought when I read your poem and your final line rounded it off nicely. Well written and enjoyed. Thank you.

[Mustafa Merchant]

Thanks for taking the time out to read it. Plz share if you liked it. And also suggest me good poems to read.

[Chris Shaw]

I am new to this site, so I am getting myself familiar with the poets on here. I am not new to poetry though. Take a look at some of my work if you want something to read.

Chris