Fist of Fury
Reflection
In the ring, a warrior stands tall,
His fists clenched, his spirit enthralled.
With every punch, a story's told,
Of trials faced, of battles old.
His eyes burn bright, like stars in night,
Reflecting the fire that fuels his might.
The sweat upon his brow, a testament to his strife,
A champion's will, a warrior's life.
The gloves, a symbol of his craft,
A shield and sword, in this dance of strength and craft.
He moves with purpose, a force so bold,
A whirlwind of power, a tale to be told.
In this moment, he is free,
A master of his destiny.
The roar of the crowd, a distant hum,
As he faces forward, his will to become.
The tattoos on his skin, a map of his past,
A journey marked, a story to forever last.
His bald head glistens, like the moon's pale glow,
As he embodies strength, in every way he goes.