How Legends Are Made
The glassy eyes was a definite clue.
To challenge him would take a fool.
He is high,—– but not on drugs.
He can dominate any thugs.
He is skilled in all fighting arts.
He can easily rip you apart.
The best there is, was, or will ever be.
Enemy’s are smart if they just flee.
Trained from birth, or even before.
18 hour days, say all the lore.
No days off for any reason.
To do less would be treason.
It all came down to this very day.
He entered the arena, as if to stay.
He will fight for the freedom of his people.
It will be shouted from the highest steeple.
If he wins they will be left alone.
If he loses, they will become unknown.
Forever slaves to the taskmasters.
Such a fate would be a disaster.
The horn was blown, the fight began.
He moved like he wasn’t a man.
Defeating easily all who they sent in.
He knew only one thing. That was to win.
His final challenge was the 5 greatest.
Fight them all at once. This was the latest.
The rules changed when they saw he was winning.
Bring them on he thought, while grinning.
His muscles rippled with the strain.
Yet, he moved like a man insane.
They couldn’t lay a hand on him.
There was no doubt that he would win.
That’s exactly what he did that day.
Won freedom for his people all the way.
He became a legend in his own time.
He paid none of it any mind.
He was only interested in just one thing.
The love of his life. He gave her a ring.
For them the story had just begun.
Thanks to the fact that he had won.
———————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2017)