That Historic Revenge

Its our home, players dressed up for play,

Ready for the revenge of the humiliation from the defeat away.

Stadium is packed and crowd chanting praises,

Players are up on the field with pepped up faces.

One is relieved with a defensive plan,

Other ready to avenge, attack with its clan.

With the first whistle off, war has begun,

The fans cheering, whilst players on the run.

The goal is gross and difficult to achieve,

Atmosphere lit up and fans steady to believe.

Lead is up but the goal is still far,

Under the spotlight, sprinting are these heavenly stars.

Half past game, but we still are in need,

Through the eyes of the audience, we sense the greed.

Teams now huddle and cook up strategies,

Ready to combat, charged up with energy.

With the second whistle off, warriors again hop on to tracks,

Like a thousand animals running in packs.

Attack is on, game is stable but a bit out of hands,

Immense support is felt from the stands.

By the approaching end, the score is all,

But we need more time for the qualification call.

With the last minutes to score,

Pressure grows immense, heat of the moment grows more.

In the last seconds, comes the final invasion,

And the teams departs for the next station.

As the score grows odd, with the bullet off the pistol,

Crowd is bewildered by the final whistle,

The stands are enlightened and broken in cry,

For these are the tears of immense pleasure and joy.

And the rescue is accomplished by our king,

Our Messiah.