Step in the circle, swallowed by the cage.

My stance; legs staggered, knees bent, swinging arms;

as I twist in an elegant, calm rage.

Swiftly spin, swirl, and surrend the disc charm.

Glides through the air like a topaz vulture.

Regain balance, disc flows through cloudy sea.

Anticipate what turf disc will rupture.

Recounting steps, insuring perfect heave.

Disc lands, stress if my distance was enough?

Soon, hopes squashed by lumbering beasts in same ring.

Awed as beasts swing tree-sized arms, chance is snuffed.

They stumble and launch the disc with a fling.

However, still succeed with no win, I

compete in events that hold my passion