Upheld fists in the air, like strong poles thrust in solid earth.
The feeling of a conquering, that is intoxicating.
And it builds in a fervor, to a culmination to a lapse of ecstasy.
Swiftly the climax closes and it follows a steep downwards flow,
Though the elation of creating a piece that shines.

Shouts join the fists in the air, echoing against the walls.
The emotion built in them cannot be an image, for it remains an enigma,
And a sense of freedom joins the joy and causing physical movement.
The limbs that flail, to and fro in frantic motion,
Unable to contain the force within them, in a symphony of expression.
In the face of oppression is laughter and hope.

The chains have crumbled and feet falling heavily upon them.
Releasing a spirit found embedded, for these champions to find.
The seekers enjoy this new world among the beauty and fantastic,
In one final outcry they disperse over the land.
The air still rumbles from their souls, whispering one word,
Triumph.