The Gladiator

He stands tall in the depths of the Coliseum,
Sword in hand, armour strapped on tightly,
Ready to do battle in that hallowed arena,
Ready to fight to the death,
For his right to be free.
Even there, in the far reaches of the Coliseum,
Where he's closer to hell than to heaven,
He can still hear the chants of the Roman mob,
Willing each Gladiator to make that killer blow,
Willing the Emperor to give the signal of death.
As the gates begin to open,
And he glimpses the sun for the first time
In what feels like an eternity,
He's urged to take what others call,
His last steps into Satan’s waiting arms.
He stands tall still,
And even the sight of many men with weapons,
And of lions and death traps,
All out to end his life,
Fail to shake his firm belief,
That he will win his freedom,
And he will see his family again...

The gates are open,
The Gladiator takes his first step towards freedom.