Deep inside a city gym,
I hurt to feel, reclaim my limbs.
My body, my mind; I will not feign.
“It’s good to suffer. Don’t complain.”
I struggle to grip the ponderous pipe,
My mind negotiates, my will to spite.
“To get things done, you must love the doing.”
I am here to fight, forget eschewing.
“To sell your soul is the easiest thing in the world.”
That’s what everybody does, afraid to unfurl.
If you don’t know where you’re going, anywhere will do.
I grasp the bar; try to grip what’s true.
Some buildings have integrity, founded on stone or sand.
Sometimes the design speaks to us, something ‘bout the way it stands.
I sense the dedication, a testimony to vision,
And think, “just like a person; and just as seldom.”
“Have you ever thought about the style of a soul?”
What separates the kind of people who make it through the slough.
Those that find the courage to redefine the risks,
And jump into the unknowing, into the precipice.
I learn to sacrifice my body, often, not wanting to,
This thing we call pain, a narrow passage to pass through.
I see it on their faces, how the deeper-in it worsens.
How without this, “we never really know another person”.
“How much more repulsive is servility of the spirit?”
The men now face this question, after surpassing the body’s limit.
And here, they’ll come to understand the meaning of replete;
Not for anyone, not for anything, especially not deceit.
The winter is a vestibule, which sees most men turn and go,
But like the principles they stand for, the men who stay here know.
Through the most ancient of conditions, you will understand yourself,
“My reward, my purpose, my life, is the work itself.”
Deep breaths of amniotic fluid; the music beats, blurred.
My body is alive; I have become my own saboteur.
The chorus of our labour, finally chanting free,
While silently we whisper, “how did you know what’s been killing me?”
I examine my unfamiliar hands, they are no longer the same.
I smile; these bloodied calluses are mere symbols of my change.
I am now the master of the bar, and I choose this every day.
For in the end with God alone, “we must find our own way.”
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