Vespasian’s dream for the ancient city of Rome,
An amphitheatre of wonder, the gladiator's home.
Crowds gawped raucously at the bloody spectacles
Of Venatores, Murmillo and Gladiatrix festivals.
Titus, son of Vespasian, opened the gaming
With a hundred days of killing, executions, and maiming.
On opening day, two champions brawl, to their limit then.
with honours even, Priscus and Veros concede ad digitum
Confined now to history through the mists of time
The Colosseum is an art form of monumental design.
An average of sixty-five thousand spectators a day
Clamoured through marble-clad porticos and archways
Their vociferous baying for blood feasts their eyes,
Whilst inside, sorry Christians were swatted like flies.
History echoes the heroes and the veneration of the brave
Blood-splattered ruins indicate sadly, those lives lost, unsaved,
Nearly two thousand years after an emperor's dream
Bruised and battered, the Colosseum still reigns supreme.
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