Marathon Runner

A chrysanthemum of pain with each staggering, stuttered step.

Agony at each tread, each a snowflake of it.

Subtle, nuanced torture, embraced by necessity.

The marathon runner races on.

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Razorblades of air cut into lungs,

Each laboured breath a vital rush

Of enthralling icy burn at the back of the throat.

Others, the competitors, suffer alongside yet apart.

None can spare the air for speech.

The marathon runners race on.

Sweated trickles through the furrows of a brow steeped in concentration.

Perseverance vies with perspiration,

As hard work’s salt drips into the eyes.

Break stride, a wipe of breath

‘fore a panting burd remakes the speed; takes the lead

Hours of effort and the battle is won. Triumph.

Racer race, forevermore

Like the runner to Marathon,

In days of yore.