A Warrior Spirit is a Mystic Soul

A poem inspired by an experiance I had as a mixed martial arts fighter.

Hands wrapped tight inside taped cloth transform into stone.

Sweat erupts wetting a Titan’s skin igniting fire to form.

Hard fists energized begin to drum in combative song.

Adrenaline fuels my heart striking lust dawn.

I practice in wait an attacking dance.

My eyes focus I enter Gladiatorial trance.

Chamber door opens to announce my entrance call.

Muscles now limber this focused world falls.

Jitters crawl deep burrowing inside my shining skin.

I jump around to tire them and release fear from within.

Seconds stretch upon hours count to a bass line beat.

I am lead out to feed on cheering energies heat.

Spotlight marks my paths within this glowing dream.

A crowd made of shadows chants inside a demonic scene.

Radiating a gamble to shack hands with death.

She holds center stage locking us in for our test.

I now stand silent upon her painted floor.

I study my challenger who has come here before.

Her metallic chains reveal our time hidden truth.

We forgot these burned memories from childhoods youth.

I watch my self mirror approach bathed by bright light.

Screams drift in with silence we glide our hands instinct to fight.

I whole heartedly entered this place far from my sins.

My riddled vision unclear where reality stops or new dimensions begin.

Physical our bodies react, but my guard missing slightly from chance.

Our ritual combat guides my inward vision covering illusions trance.

I witness lost peace replaced inside ambitions vailed pain.

My soul questions reality built by man’s primal reign.

I synchronize momentum as a divine Universal forces within me aligns.

Embodying consciousness channeling God my Chakra’s combine.

Now a Phenix I strike from Hell to force my opponent to bow at my feet.

Sympathies victim in conquest I strike sending his frail body backward to flight.

Human soul devoured surrendering unbridled power.

I am forced to my corner while I watch a Giant now cower.

Judgment persists questions are raised victory in spirit our combat is glazed.

A decision is made with opposition to fight.

Defeat through my action when I embraced the rings of true night.

Victorious I exit their creators black stage.

An experience to guide a Warrior towards emerging a Mage.

An article you may enjoy reading published on Medium

Additional poetry written by Christopher Madsen