Citius, altius, fortius –
Faster, higher, stronger.
An Olympian motto;
Precedent for ADR.
At day’s break,
Lions and gazelles, guised as friends.
With kid gloves they spar,
Neither prepared for a knockout blow.
Ten rounds we must endure, but
Alas, an Act of God!
A storm arrives on little cat feet,
Beyond my and your control.
Parties now jockey for positions,
Each feeling entitled.
Devious stratagems at play, jostling for spoils.
Who’s impartial, without bias?
Who can listen passively yet actively?
Who can note the common ground?
Here stands the middleman
Whose conviction is cast in rules of Natural Justice.
It must, or else risk his efforts being set aside.
Emotions and sentiments, now secondary
As dusk descends,
The gloves come off
And it’s a bare-knuckle brawl
But the parties are not without choice.
Some choose black and white prima facie,
Only for a win-lose to ensue.
Others opt for the Rubik’s Cube,
Settling for a win-win.
Whatever your palate desires,
The soul of the contract shall not be stained
‘Cos at night’s fall, the Law remains supreme.