Does the runner dare
To show the wind his speed?
And will the swimmer earn
His glory in the still water?
Maybe the inconsistent artist
Of joy and jumping
Can answer that question,
Or maybe a lone arrow can find
Its way through the center,
But for sure the passion and love
For acting without boundaries
Will bring them together
In the sacred place of blossoms
To show to this ill world
What's meant to mean human.
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