Ok here is the next riddle
It roars its challenge,
And I respond.
It takes my abuse,
And goes beyond.
Filled with liquid,
In my hurried haste,
I wield my staff,
In this turgid race.
But once I have vanquished,
The mighty foe,
I float like a thistle,
While moving ever so slow.
What are we talking abour really?
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