Post by Wizard on May 22, 2009 4:21:45 GMT -5
The idea for this came to mind while I was running; I then fleshed it out on the computer.
The Fight
They stood there quite silent, sword in hand
Both awaiting the grim command.
One from the army, bred to compete,
The other a natural, straight from the street.
The fight-signal came, each combatant started
His efforts to avoid being the dearly departed.
Circling each other, eyes staring death
determined to fight to the very last breath.
A move all too sudden, a quick flash of steel,
This was a fight for a very last meal.
See, that was the cause for this violent commotion:
No riches, no title, no eternal-life potion,
But simply some food, required for livin'.
Their captors had said "Only one will be given.
Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies,
Now get in the pit before I stab out your eyes."
So that's how it came to these countrymen fighting
Advancing and parrying (very exciting!)
Evenly matched, they made quite a show,
A dodge for a dodge, a blow for a blow.
One tripped his opponent, stabbed down, but missed;
His prone mirror image had escaped with a twist.
His free hand grabbed dirt; he counter-assaulted;
Blind in both eyes, the standing one halted.
Victory assured, Groundfighter aimed for the heart
'til (at the last second) his eyes spied a tart.
A guardsman's late snack, but it did this one thing:
It showed this great puppet his invisible strings.
Here fought he for food, versus myrmidon noble,
Though the land knew no hunger, they'd kept him immobile.
So, waiting for the blind man to stop, clear his vision
He lay there unmoving and whispered his decision.
The audience blinked. They stared in confusion!
Was this really happening? Yes! Gladiator collusion!
Before quite alone, for escape each deficient
Together they slaughtered (very efficient!)
Guard after guard came to fight, two, four, eight!
All died in vain, for the pair reached the gate.
Greeted as heroes, peerless warriors both lauded
The entourage grew 'til it got really crowded.
A path opened up, a platform in reach.
The people were anxious. They wanted a speech!
Up first was the streetfighter, he grinned and then spoke,
"I know that I beat you, but you're one scary bloke!"
Then he was done; the right to speak ceded
to the uniformed soldier, who this way proceeded:
"That the prospect of fighting me was the cause of such dread
Is far from an insult---no, it's praise, instead.
While the highest of compliments I can pay to this Other
Is that while I came as Foe, he saw me as Brother."
The Fight
They stood there quite silent, sword in hand
Both awaiting the grim command.
One from the army, bred to compete,
The other a natural, straight from the street.
The fight-signal came, each combatant started
His efforts to avoid being the dearly departed.
Circling each other, eyes staring death
determined to fight to the very last breath.
A move all too sudden, a quick flash of steel,
This was a fight for a very last meal.
See, that was the cause for this violent commotion:
No riches, no title, no eternal-life potion,
But simply some food, required for livin'.
Their captors had said "Only one will be given.
Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies,
Now get in the pit before I stab out your eyes."
So that's how it came to these countrymen fighting
Advancing and parrying (very exciting!)
Evenly matched, they made quite a show,
A dodge for a dodge, a blow for a blow.
One tripped his opponent, stabbed down, but missed;
His prone mirror image had escaped with a twist.
His free hand grabbed dirt; he counter-assaulted;
Blind in both eyes, the standing one halted.
Victory assured, Groundfighter aimed for the heart
'til (at the last second) his eyes spied a tart.
A guardsman's late snack, but it did this one thing:
It showed this great puppet his invisible strings.
Here fought he for food, versus myrmidon noble,
Though the land knew no hunger, they'd kept him immobile.
So, waiting for the blind man to stop, clear his vision
He lay there unmoving and whispered his decision.
The audience blinked. They stared in confusion!
Was this really happening? Yes! Gladiator collusion!
Before quite alone, for escape each deficient
Together they slaughtered (very efficient!)
Guard after guard came to fight, two, four, eight!
All died in vain, for the pair reached the gate.
Greeted as heroes, peerless warriors both lauded
The entourage grew 'til it got really crowded.
A path opened up, a platform in reach.
The people were anxious. They wanted a speech!
Up first was the streetfighter, he grinned and then spoke,
"I know that I beat you, but you're one scary bloke!"
Then he was done; the right to speak ceded
to the uniformed soldier, who this way proceeded:
"That the prospect of fighting me was the cause of such dread
Is far from an insult---no, it's praise, instead.
While the highest of compliments I can pay to this Other
Is that while I came as Foe, he saw me as Brother."
