Gladiator Poem by Phillip Alan Green

‘I am dead.’ This echo races through my mind,
Breathing deeply I await the feelings,
The shadows of my life come forth.
As I stand beneath the entrance of the ring.

I can sense her soul next to me,
And with it images of a cancer body, frail in cot,
I recall opening you veins to free you,
And now you rejoice with the God’s of death. As will I!

Unbeaten am I until this day,
Is it strange what a man will do for love?
The tear states the truth that I miss you too much,
And for this reason I die this day.

Metal blocks my future, my destiny, my fate,
And in the darkness although he sees me not,
I see him; the look of an eagle surrounds,
And my power grows as I sense his hate.

I walk out into my future,
To the scream and cheer of the mass,
I raise my weapon of death,
Silently I salute her.

All is silent until steel on steel meets,
Skilled as I, is he that holds my fate,
Thrust and parry reflect my miserable existence,
And I cast aside my weapon and kneel at his feet.

Thumb down at my choice!
I lean forward as tears greet dirt,
Ages pass awaiting the killing…….!
I am awash with gentle voice.

Soft hand to brush bloody tears,
And misty eye clears to her face,
Is it you, I am indeed dead,
I feel love, no fear.

Cast aside this mortal fleece,
Drowned in light and cheers and screams,
They fade and I’m carried away,
To the everlasting sleep and peace.