For Castle Comrades and Donzilla's might, A verse to share in this dim, sudden night. Since summer's bloom in twenty-eleven's year, A Monday ritual, banishing all fear. At twenty-three, I found your voices' hold, For wrestling's clash, a story to unfold. But more than slams, the realness drew me near, The jokes, the souls, dispelling doubt and tear. The other TRAX, a trio strong and true, This extended kin, it's all because of you. From 2016 start, and 2020 shadowed space, As Bryan Bk, I found my Patreon's place. Through life's own storms, where personal trials spun, To Lucky Thirteen, a meeting left undone. I'm still rebuilding, finding solid ground, But Kevin's battles, deeper wounds profound. This loss, the shadows that preceded pain, A stark reminder to rise and strive again. Though social fears still whisper in my ear, At thirty-seven, a wrestler's path is clear. To live unburdened, free from deep regret, To mount the saddle, lessons I won't forget. A voice alone, across the world it flies, Connecting hearts beneath vast digital skies. Amidst the fray, where trolls and tribes divide, This bond of sound, a beauty deep inside. The crown returned, DTKC's joyful sound, "Coming back for the crown," on hallowed ground. But know this now, though grief may dim the light, You held the crown, and always will, in our sight.
