The gates rise.
The Colosseum is breathtaking.
He feels frozen,
yet he stands strong.
Deafening.
The spectators shake the ground for miles.
A single slave will battle one man,
His chances of victory are as slim as a blade of grass...
The crowd will decide.
Brave.
The slave shows courage.
He draws his shiny sword,
He takes a step closer…
The crowd roars.
Lunge.
His enemy attacks.
Sword to sword, they fight.
Seconds ticked by,
like water dripping from a broken faucet,
The crowd yells.
The slave loses his balance,
He is stabbed in the side--he falls to his knees.
His enemy steps toward him. The spectators suspensefully extend their arms.
Their thumbs
point to the ground.
Execution.
with one last breath,
the slave feels free.
Silence.
The crowd, suddenly silent.