Two
step slowly into the arena
From
the darkness of the gate—
As
crowd erupts in coliseum,
The
sands and rafters shake.
Blood
last spilt from warrior’s spar
Ignites
the thrill of death in all:
Inside
the slaves, inside the mob,
Inside
the politicians, inside—I
sob.
Is
less than seemly for eyes to see—
As
worldly quakes, the hardened whole
Lose
sight of the worth of lowly souls.
Roars
rise louder than any scream
Uttered
in cheer or bellowed in team—
A
graphic end to a life but spent
Serving
as tribute to emperor’s raiment.
His
thumb points up, his thumb points down,
Holding
lost host in the palm of a sound—
Whether
for, or whether against
Audience
approval seals slashed to rest.
One
steps slowly out of arena
Into
the darkness of the gate—
As
crowd erupts in coliseum
The
sands and rafter shake.
