The Arena Testo

Testo The Arena

Words of cunning

shinning stunning.

Men of grandeur

blinding, numbing

with winsome wiles in specious styles.


Speeches etching,

rhyming, wrenching,.

Men so shallow

stumble fetching

for words that maze, to clear their daze.



Calm in disarray.

Sinking day by day.

Hopeless never see
save what they believe.



Choices weakening,

ever sinking.

Men are poisoned

into thinking

That they've a voice above their noise.



Spheres of disarray

worsened by the day.

Sadly led and fooled

without thoughts to rule.