Best Sportsprayer Poems
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Once again, the bell rings.
The crowd's blood-thirsty roar
explodes as a thunderclap.
The arena's skydome trembles.
The gloved gladiators,
as blood-crazed predators,
fiercely glare and growl
in murderous rage and hatred.
Each one's whole being reduced
to the moment's sole purpose
of utterly destroying the other,
for fortune, pride and fame.
They clash anew, after a hurried
sign of the cross, while mumbling
to their God of love and mercy
...a bleeding, bloodied prayer !
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