ECHOES OF THE ARENA
jerry KWATCHEY@kwatcheyjerry128608
1 day ago
#poetry
Once upon an age long faded into dust,
a soul who did not know Spartacus or Crixus
was marked as adrift
a wanderer outside the rhythm of his own civilization.
For in those days, the gladiators were constellations in human form,
their names sung by boys with wide eyes
and men whose spirits burned for spectacle.
The arena was their universe,
and within its sand the world found meaning.
And today, it is football.
The chants rise the same,
the devotion breathes the same,
the heroes wear different armor,
but the worship… the worship has not changed.
Those who once lived through the thunder of the coliseum
could never imagine a glory greater than warriors beneath a Roman sun;
and those bound to the gospel of football now
cannot dream a time before it,
nor a world beyond it.
Yet truth stands ancient and unshaken:
there is nothing new beneath the sun.
Only new battles,
new idols,
new arenas
and the same fire in the human heart
searching endlessly for something to believe in.
A Reflection from the SIMU Collection.
8 hours ago
