Into The Arena

Into the Arena

Trumpets, cymbals,
a cacophony of sound screams out
to herald the arrival!
                                                    Out of the dark,
                                                    into blazing, sunlit arena,
                                                    each facing mortality.
Hearken the mob.
Hunger for blood already whetted
by precursory events.
                                                    Imperator!
                                                    Ritual salutations exchanged,
                                                    time for combat to commence.
Both circling,
stalking other. Retiarius
demonstrates agility.
                                                  The secutor
                                                  reliant on strength of honed body.
                                                  Beware the three pronged trident.
Advance, retreat,
advantage, loss.  Clash of sword on shield.
Weary bodies strain and sweat.
                                                  Secutor thrusts,
                                                  slicing shoulder of retiarus.
                                                  Blood and sweat intermingle.
In the stained sand,
slipping and straining for advantage,
fatigued muscles scream with pain.
                                                  With sweat slicked skin,
                                                  retiarius  flings weighted net
                                                  in wide arc to entangle.
Too late!  He sees
mistake. The crowd, sensing victory,
bays for blood.  “Let him have it!”
                                                  Death comes swiftly
                                                  to the vanquished. Snared in own rete,
                                                  sacrificed by secutor.
Lightening speed
and trident could not safeguard against
gladius wielded with strength.
                                                  Charon’s hammer,
                                                  ensured, with Mercury’s hot iron
                                                  that life had eked away.
Ignominy
for loser, dragged off through blood stained sand.
Laurels for the conqueror.

                                      “sine missione”