Blood on the canvas
The sweat drenched carnival
The lights above us
The 3 count and it will be over
The curtain call; the passing of the torch.
The ‘roids have kicked in; the veins are engorged.
A career taking bumps, the lost brain cells
The deathmatches, the last man standings, the hell in the cells.
Body on the line, the story is the pain.
The masquerade of not being hurt; the troubles of the day.
Pills, cocaine, alcohol and sex.
Anything to taper the punishment.
Broken bones, blood, concussions.
Glory, cash, heartbreak & redemption.
The lines between reality & facade are blurred forever.
A storyline with a broken house a reality,
And the pain of not seeing your daughter worse than a piledriver
If you know, you do, if you don’t you never will.
Shhh, lets retain kayfabe, count me out while I lie still.
Himanshu Chakravarty Sharma / मंच 
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