The ball is rolled,
The die thrown,
The horse now out of its gate.
The summons scrolled,
The outcome known,
No step back...too late.
What should have been,
Now sees the fall,
To dust that's obsolete.
The result seen,
In deficient call,
Laid at mercy's feet.
The dung flung far,
Has hit its mark,
An obvious stink its made.
To fight a war,
With a failing spark,
Will use time to completely fade.
So as they said,
When the lions roared,
In bloodied arenas for picking.
The gladiator's not dead,
Till he's been gored,
Hurrah! Let the games begin.
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