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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