The Great Spartacus

 

Along the dark tunnel

in the smouldering heat,

there stood a gladiator

with a sword by his feet.

 

As the crowd roared

his heart beat faster,

awaiting for the order

of the games’ master.

 

The iron gate arose

and out came the men,

bravely battling the lions

released from their den.

 

When the battle was over,

one man stood alone,

would he still have to fight

or would he go home?

 

With a smile of delight

Caesar turned down his thumb,

this he would regret

in the years to come.

 

Spartacus gathered the slaves

and fought against Rome,

fighting for his freedom

and to journey home.

 

 

For two long years

he brought Rome to its knees,

left them rubbing their wounds

like stings from bees.

 

But fate soon caught him

near Sicily’s shore,

there he died fighting

‘til he was no more.

 

Then a mysterious fog

descended to the ground,

but the body of Spartacus

was nowhere to be found.

 

 

 

Click here for more poems