And then you

I stand along the edge

Shouting out

My misery

To the gods 

Who do not listen

Hope is a dead thing 

Blood spit from my mouth 

Hacked away with metal

And her forgiving stare

So I court death 

The only opponent left

With harsh laughter 

And a mocking grin

For I am the god
Of the arena
With the sky above

And her corpse always beside me
I am the victor of empty things