FISTS RAISED

The eyes of the

fighters speak

with growling

deep from black

souls escaping

to the surface.

Sweat drips

to a stained canvas.

Blood soon releases

from open wounds

cut by leather.

The crowd sounds

a battle cry.

as the bell rings.

Adrenalin

charges the feet

to stand.

Fists rise like cannons

as the men circle,

flashing hate,

to the end.

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