May 10, 2010
By Kilia GOLD, Durham, North Carolina
Kilia GOLD, Durham, North Carolina
16 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
At your weakest you learn to be at your strongest.

The warm liquid, salty sweet,
Dripping down my face, down my cheeks
Onto my lips, my tongue, down my chin,
My neck, my chest, my shoulders
Arms, wrists, hands and legs

Blinding speed, quick as lightening,
Blood pounding in my ears,
In my throat, my wrists, in my veins
My forearms, my thighs, my fingers
Pulsing, rushing, pumping

Quick shallow breaths
Deeply filling my lungs
Panting through my mouth
Catching in my throat
Holding me, choking me

Body shaking, shuddering
Unable to stand still
Wobbling, wavering, quavering
A tremor deep inside me,
Muscles taut

Straightening up, hands on my head
Eyes on the ceiling, unfocused
Chest heaving, temples throbbing
Legs trembles, arms quiver
A voice in my head…


Breathing contained, pulse slowing
Body loosening, and relaxing
Eyes refocus, jaw locks
Teeth grinding together
Starting again


The makings of a champion

The author's comments:
I'm a martial artist. I've been training for ten years. This is a poem I wrote during my training for blackbelt, and I feel that it shows how hard blackbelt really is, and why it is such an achievement.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!