Small glances.
Sent around the room.
At my fellow companions,
Ready to face their doom.

Short breaths.
Staring at the lion in its cage.
Preparing myself,
Preparing to face its deadly rage.

What have I done?
To end up in this place?
Was it to save my family?
Or just to save face?

I suppose I shall never know
The real reason why.
For the only time I will leave this hell-hole
Will be the time I die.