Be glad of the gladiator whom comes with burnished steel into the glade of dragon's caves, for what they guard was wrought for sharing.
The gladiator with sword of blunted steel knew the quill in the hand of the silver tongued devils to bring more trauma to nations than he could ever wield.
The audience that bade him fight, the gladiator who'd won victory after victory, believed he loved them all as he waved, fancied themselves his friend in twisted ways. Yet should they fall at his feet he wouldn't even let them lick the leather. Rancid cowards with a thirst for anyone's blood and pain but their precious own.
The gladiator raised his eyes to the faces in the stadium and knew that in truth it was he looking down on they.
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