The Heart of the game
The field stretches wide,
a canvas of green,
where feet meet fate,
and dreams chase the wind.
The ball is a whisper,
rolling, spinning,
through the hands of time,
through the pulse of a crowd,
through the heartbeats of those who play.
No clock can measure
the depth of this battle—
each pass a promise,
each goal a story untold,
etched in the dust and sweat of effort.
The game is more than movement,
more than a final score—
it is the rhythm of passion,
the dance of the impossible,
the fire of those who believe
that the beautiful game
is a language that speaks
directly to the soul.