it must have been one hundred and five
he was steaming hot with rage
santos saw the red in the sky
they just released him from his cage
this was not the day he’d let a sword come in between him and ken
what he failed to understand is that the blade would not break or bend
he scrambled to start his attack
burned rubber turned the air black
charged forward stabbed in the back
a yellow flame flared in his eye
and made him numb like novocaine
the crowd around could read his mind
they were calling out his name
santos got his balance and persisted to walk towards ken
each step getting slower till he stood beside him facing the end
i can remember his face
ken sweating perplexed and disgraced
a runner without a race