Poetry.
The sound of crowds shouting your name
Earing you glory and fame
Knowing you’ll be a legend in stories
For striking, thrashing, only to maim
Glory, your heart desires
Another surge of applause, each blow to the enemy earns
Applause
They shout and cheer
But you realize it is only a game
Meant to entertain sick, twisted, demented things
They shout
You kill
You are nothing
Glory and Fame
Nothing
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