Life and death are games he plays,
A brush with both on numbered days.
Adrenalin surges like the rushing waters,
Pelting the earth and her sons and daughters.
Death is far away out there yet so close
With its mysterious smile ever so grandiose.
He admits the power and braces up against
With guts and swagger and heavy armaments.
The sword he swallows goes down and down,
His body rigid and his nerves tightly wound.
Micro inches from death inside his body,
His love affair with life is somewhat cloudy.
The audience shouts for more and more.
A slip of the blade he gives them their gore.
They came and saw what they wanted to see;
A man lying down with his blood running free.
A sight of horror but yet of mortal glamour,
As death came to the stage in glorified splendor,
With its fiery spirit and razor sharp teeth
That glistened in the heat of his fateful night.

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