Once more into the fray went the Bull to fight or be murdered that is the question

Gasping on the grass
the bull lies writhing in the throes of death
he has been stabbed so mant times
his faltering troubled breath
is fast approaching somewhere
not now of this world
clearly he is fading fast
and is now being hurled

forward into heaven
projecting to the stars
as young Bullfighters
masked stand by
imagining the scars
that they are going to get some day
as they get on the case
proud members of the murdering class
a proper vile disgrace

bringing youngsters on
to murder and use mayhem
this Bull is almost gone
The Toreodor
The Picador
The Matador
all used
various knives
and everyone with little care
all now have abused
the bull, a powerful animal
who was probably confused

Clearly on a good day
Ready to go to war
but now stretched out in agony
on the grass there for sure
a baying crowd of on lookers
see emotion now as weak
a statement to the crowd at large
when its blood that they all seek

gasping
rasping
clasping to life’s thin ribbon
he
coughing up the blood of being
and soon he will be free
of all these inhumane agenda’s
who crucially imagine that
what they do now does
gain the respect
and rich excitement
but in essence it makes us buzz

a real cold wind is now blowing
across the stadium where
the bull alas it just pegs out
his last moment despair
when someone actually wakes
up to the terror of it all
its murder its not fighting
the bull was not a fool
he was strong and frightening
but was not ready to die
he will go to heaven
which he had tried to fight shy

(of)