The Serb in the Court of Play

A Poem dedicated to Novak Djokovic

A Poem dedicated to Novak Djokovic
(Written in the spirit, the theme, and the style of William Blake)

The Serb in the Court of Play

In the arena, where the light doth blaze,
A figure strides, with grace but fierce in gaze,
Novak, the Serb, with racquet in his hand,
Doth wield a power, both of earth and land.

The ball, a lamb upon the greenest field,
Meets his touch, soft as innocence revealed,
Yet like the Tyger, burning bright in strife,
His strokes command the battle of his life.

From innocence of youth, a journey long,
Through tempests fierce, where doubts and fears belong,
His spirit, like Albion, seeks to rise,
In unity with skill beneath the skies.

The court, a world in grains of sand confined,
Reflects the soul, where passions are designed,
Each match, a poem of struggle and of grace,
A dance with fate in every served embrace.

But mind-forged manacles, the world doth see,
In rules and judgments, chains of tyranny,
For in his play, a liberation's found,
Where freedom in each swing doth resound.

And thus, he stands, a symbol in our eyes,
Of what in human form might yet arise,
A testament to effort, skill, and heart,
A Blakean vision, where the spirits start.