He was born weak
Frail, tender, and infirm
And even time could not make mends
Nor meat
Only one muscle grew strong
So he trained
Making each breath his Practice
And low, a mighty battle brew
The four horsemen blew their trumpets
The four corners folded upon themselves
The day of judgment came
Darkness found its name and a steed
Gathering strength against the lone knight
Until the Practiced one lay at evils feet
And greatness washed over him
Evil begat good
Surrender
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