Victory and Shame

It's like a dance, they move in time.
Each at the ready, waiting for the other to move.
The room is silent, not a single sound anywhere.
Without warning, they begin,
Working complex moves that will leave one of them victorious,
And the other a loser.
A single touch and blood flies across the arena,
The impact shoving the hitted's head back.
He retaliates with a kick to the stomach,
Leaving his opponent gasping for breath.
They prance on their toes,
simotaneously throwing punches and ducking.
A fist collides with a nose and blood pours.
Neither will give up, but both are hurt.
A leg flies and with a crack, the shorter of the two goes down.
He clutches his side, and slowly pushes himself back up.
Gasping in pain, he continues the dance, awkwardly moving.
They close in on each other, and the taller man tries to duck, but fails.
He falls to the ground and lays there, unable to get back up.
The referee acknowledges the winner.
For one man, there is victory.

For the other man, there is shame.