Gladiatrix Poem by Victoria Udnæs

The Lioness` head is tamed.
Now the games may continue in claimed
territory, the one savage story
about helmets of gold and earned glory.

The audience`s thunder roared in excitement
claiming opponent`s sunder frightment
a wish for a death, a circled blood-wreath,
the gurgled and imminent last breath.

With muscles and tendons trained for this moment
competing for one`s own bestowment
tremendous in pain, all thoughts are insane
but winner may freedom and tree sword gain.

A relief from the past gives the confirmation
in an ancient stone with its own translation
their wish to be freed, they did it, indeed
the female fighters with sword and shield.