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The Modern Hercules

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Sweat made my calloused hands slippery,
against the metal bars upon my chest.
These brows were knit so rough and tightly,
rusted worn out irons lay - abreast. 

Deep breaths of solid desperation,
each toned arm and leg engulfs mass - yet.
Clenched teeth counted endless repetitions,
glorious pain aches muscles to forget.

Singing one to eight and eight to one,
I pose with conceited vanity.
Mirrors faced this body of a demon,
beamed a proud tired smile in memory. 

Others strive - this sculptured perfection,
but none so desire this as much as me.
My day as the majestic scion, 
I'll show this form, for the world to envy.

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