The Runner

As he leans over the starting line

a bead of sweat trickles down his face,

a tiny river carving its path through a barren land.

His eyes glisten with the fire of a thousand suns,

a power beyond control, waiting to unleash its fury.

His face carries an expression defiantly resolute,

undeterred from its purpose.

Slowly, he wets his lips,

savoring the thrill of anticipation.

Forged from the crucible of training,

his powerful frame stands firm,

muscles tensed in apprehension,

knees bent, accentuating the power possessed by his body,

a loaded gun ready to fire.

He breathes slowly and deliberately,

each breath sending a chill of excitement through his body,

as his heart beats like the forceful steps of a soldier

preparing to wage war.

The sharp crack of a gunshot ripples through the air,

igniting the explosion once contained in his body.

He tears through the track like a merciless storm

As his mind is possessed by a single, driving thought:

This is my moment, and nothing can stop me.