It would have conquered if love was there cause the passer was just prying, a mere distraction, a test to see how the situation at hand would be managed.
The chance to make for a run slipped away when a turn was made to give a thought, a nursed desire became a pillar for the opponent, love was forgotten, cry from a bite echoed without regret.
The streams have been flowing, signs were there, if only love was given a thought the bend would have been ignored cause it was only a diversion to weaken a resolve by shoving it’s evidence to dilute love.
Felt like tripping, weighed down by a jungle, with each step a stumble, resistance growing weak with every resolve to give a clap to the one holding the trophy.
Streams of joy should flow when a competitor reaches the endpoint, among the people in the track for a race a champion must emerge, the heart that wasn’t enduring enough to make it to the endpoint on time can only rejoice with the winner.
Do not say I am the mighty horseman that has never been defeated. Do not say I am the cheether with strength and ability to go miles rather grace your lips with a smile.
Don’t let your heart green with jealousy making it an abode breeds rancor.