Blood Lust
what he sees scares him, makes him shudder,
that thick, muscular neck of that ogre
angling out from under that rock skull,
taut trapezius, menacingly dark, dull;
beneath brutish brows, sharp, smoldering,
blood-shot eyes glare, ferociously scanning
the arena for anyone daring, still standing,
trumpets blast, the maddened mob starts to sing;
before the crazed crowd, they clash once again,
pandemonium with every slash and then,
both mortally struck, they stagger and fall,
the rabble's blood lust, not appeased at all !
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