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