ring

we often come to cruces where flesh and faith meet in
throes of caution and throws
with passion betwixt what we strangely call
a draw (can't drawing come in
any fashion) — when the bell hits 9 and both are on the
floor, nary'd snap as much as a neck recoiling after
recoiling after an uppercut meets it; flesh and faith all desperately thrown
into that one action that rounds up the entire fight:
a knock out that takes the fancy out of the flight