Ancient
Joined: 14-March 10
From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN
*
The Arena Gladiator
The roar of the crowds kept me on my feet, but I swayed and darkness hedged my vision. Blood streamed in my eyes, I could not see. One more wound, one more minute...I might be done, when the match ends there can only be one.
The hilt of my sword was slippery and wet, Sweat mixed with blood dripped on my hand. My opponent should be just as injured, and yet another blow on me he was able to land; and without much trouble managed to stand.
Weakness overwhelming, sapping strength; The blade in my hand too heavy to lift. He had moved in close, barely an arm's length. My parry was sloppy, I thrust and missed. His slid through my belly with an icy hiss.
His eyes apologized as he twisted the blade, I was too numb by then to feel the pain. He thrust upwards, waiting for the sound to be made that would tell him my lung was beginning to drain. When he didn't hear it he thrust up again.
I heard it then, my lung tore with a "pop." The blood coming out was bubbling with air. Inside me I wanted to beg him to stop. It was too late now, and I just didn't dare. I felt my eyes freezing into a glassy stare.
My knees hit the ground first with a thud, my bowels spilling out in a nasty pile. Then my face plowed straight into the mud I think I still breathed for a little while. Then I heard the voice of Clavicus Vile
When I joined the Arena I always knew that this day would eventually come. When you enter those gates what they say is true, Only one will go home when the day is done... Today was the day that I wasn't the one.
*
This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 26 2011, 12:57 AM
I'm not a fan of poetry . . . most of it causes my eyes to glaze over and quickly move on. But I'll make an exception here. It was easy to read, easy to understand and powerfully evoking.
You captured the feel and spirit of your gladiator perfectly.