Night Games
The Colluseum
Has filled with people again,
Glowing softly by torch-light.
Lamps are lit, twinkling
Like stars in the seats above.
Heavy fumes of olive oil
Waft up on the breeze.
No longer do the petals
Hold their fragrant perfume
Of the day's cascade,
But lie crumpled in the sand
Trampled underfoot and blood.
Here I stand. Nobel
And proud--a woman of means--
Gladiator--non-the less.
Tonight is special.
I fight my last of five years...
The Rudius will be mine.
Here with loin cloth
And thraex...standing ready.
Domitian, has called his
Last dwarf to fight me.
In full armor, he is no match--
A quick jab to my legs, but
Like a gazelle, I
Leap above him, taking his
Right arm with one swift slice of
My blade--and it falls
As I land behind the dwarf.
Screaming as his blood spirts from
what's left of his arm,
He raises his left hand high,
Stagering, facing the crowd.
I wait...Thumbs down--and he lives.
Thumbs up--and I mercif'lly
Slit his throat, with one quick slice...
He falls to his knees.
Walking around to face him,
Ready my thraex and say
"Forgive me, brother...
For you who are about to
Die...I salute you." ...And
Then, it was over.
He lay face down in the sand,
And his blood...And the crowed cheered.
Now, we both...are free.
deborah burch©
5/25/2012
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