A/N- After watching The Hunger Games once again, I did a little math and a little translating and got this fic! In case you're wondering, Amare Memoria loosely translates to "loving memory" in Latin.
And no, this is not specific to the 74th Hunger Games, although in the beginning it may seem like it, but I just did my best to make it generic. And yes, I know the spacing is terrible, but my computer is spazzy and won't let me space it right. So, four lines in a stanza, you can do the rest.
Disclaimer- In no way do I own anything you recognize.
Amare Memoria
Twenty-four children
A futuristic cage
A fight to the death
Succumbing to rage
A pageant of brutality
Flaunting their power
The districts grow weaker
Hour by hour
A lottery, a gamble
Impossible to win
Generations called up
Their future is grim
Brought to the Capitol
The home of excess
To dress in fine outfits
Their view of success
Training's begun
The time draws near
Scores are given
Always someone to fear
Demanding audience
A fight for life
Live and on camera
An act causing much strife
The morning has come
To fight to the death
No sleep beforehand
Too worried to rest
A cornucopia, a battle
Blood splattering the grass
Fatality is inevitable
One life above the rest
An escape to the woods
Running, hiding
Attracting sponsors
Whose job is deciding
Their gifts mean the difference
Between life and death
Water or a knife
Prolongs a final breath
The numbers start to dwindle
The cannon's present strain
22 are gone now
Just two remain
Myself, my enemy
Me and my friend
A difficult decision
But their life must end
A final battle
The winning cry
Lifted up and away
As tears run dry
A hospital ward
Soft voices, a soft word
Safety and security
No cruelty is heard
The crowning, by President
The welcome by life
As it all once was
With no fear of a knife
Perpetually haunted
By what I once did
To take innocent life
Take the life of a kid
Unforgivable, unlovable
Apart from the rest
A lifetime of nightmares
To be human is blessed
Less than a person
To kill their own
A family is grieving
Empty space in their home
Their loss is my fault
Their pain is my pain
A soulless creature
Is what I became
The Games are at fault
But I can't resist
Regretting my actions
Wishing my blade had missed
Tortured by day
Haunted by night
By what the Games did
To a future once bright
My days have ended
But my suffering will last
In a generation of children
Stuck repeating the past.