MMA Gladiator’s Battle


The bell clanks cries of “Dead, dead”

Fighters sieze the middle ground

And ignore the taunts of dread

So one may hear his name loud.

Punches like arrows come fly

Some draw blood as they would land

Some bounce off and below lie

They come as strength is at hand

Kicks like axes chop down men

Down with one blow, or more so

Soon become tall trees fallen

Skills wielded from the torso

In the end comes him called Fate

And raises the victor’s hand

Chosen is one to be great

He stands and fights as he can


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