​The final anthem is sung and the final oaths sworn

To never forget an event, only once in four years.

The final goodbyes are said and the olympians go home;

In glory, in dismay,

With bright hope for the future, with retirement glaring through despondent eyes. 

The empty stadium echoes with ghost of soon forgotten cheers and screams and grunts. 

The empty podium stands, waiting, wondering when another athlete would ever depend on it to be elevated to the god status of their deserved importance.

Behind the wood and behind the metal,

Behind the steel and beneath the concrete that hold the stadium in place,

The gods of Olympus hide, satisfied.

Fed and bloated on the anguish of broken bones and sprained necks.

Bulging bellies full of tears of losers,

‘Good, but not quite good enough’ their grieving hearts murmur.

The gods of Olympus are overfed and as the last person leaves the stadium, iron shutters closing for the final time behind them, immortal eyes become drowsy. 

Their serpentine bodies curl, slow hissing of air expelled from tired breaths. 

It is time for the four year hibernation. 

Until the next Olympics.

Until the next batch of sacrifices

To the gods of human vanity.
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Funfact: I wrote this at the start of the Olympics.

Funfact 2: It was inspired by pictures of former Olympic arenas from 1920’s to 2008 and how some of these structures now lie desolate.

Salutation: Howdy, it has been a while hasn’t it?

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