You were the one that opened the doors to let hell free,
killing Christians and lawbreakers with a certain glee.
In your image we erected a house of violence and greed,
and one by one bodies would drop to the audience that pay no heed.
You called for them to fight for there life,
and hungered for blood as they ended another life.
To the few that walked away a hero, of the circle of the dead,
you left them to pass their seed in a woman's bed.
For those that would survive to fight another day,
they would soon learn that in death all would betray.
Left to fight lions and man-eating vermin,
they would shout your name to finalize their sermon.
Even the waters were not safe from your hateful lust,
for the proof is in the coliseum where it still gathers dust.
Down in the boughs where men awaited to die,
all understood the game and knew why.
To make the masses take pride in this blood lust,
and to honor you and in their sword they would trust.
