He gauge the surrounding.
hordes of onlookers pounding the ground with stone hatchets
the coliseum, large columns of limestone standard
the crowd roared; frantic! "Kill him" chanting...
crying for blood; it was a war torn anthem
Johan stood face to face with a one sword Sampson
strength of a god; skilled in axes as the emperor cusps his chalice
his bulk recalling the girth of Atlas
holding the earth, cursed by the gods for malice.
the ground perspiring as sweat trickles from stained pits
he had one move. Hit him as his weights shifts in mid-step
he's skilled but still a stupid piece of ape shit
“as soon as he give way, i'll swing the mace...
that should lay him.”
his shoulders, laced with war memorabilia
skulls of enemies filling the armor like god instilling fear in ya
he's within reach...
"midstep"..Johann repeated. in the scorching summer heat
among a court of flesh and fleet
he took his last step,
timing it, he leap and swung. heads would meet
flesh to steel! a thrust repeated until the breath receded
a silent hush...
then a sudden rush as the crowd erupts...
he dun fuck this beast up! Who's next? lets see him!
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