A wary and watchful warrior
\nAssisted by clear eyes
\nThe torture of existence
\nThe persistence of the wise
\nTo be penalised for being
\nThe disharmony they create
\nThe factiousness and awkwardness
\nIt becomes their way to bait<\/p>\n
To pick a fight to be bellicose
\nCantankerous and wrong
\nTo stab me with those pointed
\nAnd do it all along
\nThe loss of blood exuding
\nHas made me awfully weak
\nYou can see my heart is overworked
\nIts rest time now I seek<\/p>\n
But this prick exposing everything
\nHis manhood and his all
\nClad in pink suggestion
\nHe is such a fool
\nHis arrogance is overdone
\nIt takes so much from me
\nI eye him up
\nI aim my horns
\nTo impale him painfully<\/p>\n
Stick him through his crutch bag
\nReally make him see
\nStabbing bulls and staring
\nIs playing with our qi
\nIts his sad defiance
\nHis boasting ugly way
\nOf taunting me of drawing me
\nOut of myself today<\/p>\n
Old in the tooth and wiser
\nThan this pumped up clown can see
\ni yearned for peace but met his war
\nAnd what that did for me
\nWas ti believe in retaliation
\nGive as good as I got
\nAim my horn and thrust my neck
\nAnd watch him go to pot<\/p>\n
Watch his blood run down his legs
\nAnd just feel his pain
\nA just reward for his challenge
\nAnd I’d do it again
\nLift him up and toss him
\nHis submission now would be
\nA kind if fatalism
\nA surrender actually
\nI watched them as they carried him
\nThe arena was subdued
\nIt had been my field of battle
\nAnd however crude
\nHis injuries were it provided
\nA reason to be there
\nIf I was to die because of him
\nHe would and should now share<\/p>\n
A part of my delusion
\nThe conclusion being I
\nWhen beaten would then be eaten
\nAnd become them by and by
\nCould I create a resonance
\nA taming of their screw
\nCould I impart some empathy
\nIts something I could do<\/p>\n
I managed to remind him
\nFor a lot of years to come
\nThat wearing clothes as tight as his
\nAnd Exposing his pretty bum
\nGave me something to aim at
\nSomething soft and tender
\nAnd I just bloody well went for him
\nAs the true defender
\nThrust my horn into his sac
\nAnd twisted it as well
\nyes dear Mr Matador
\nI am the bull from Hell<\/p>\n
I have the power of Hathor
\nThe strength to see it through
\nAnd hopefully when you walk out
\nWhatever else you do
\nYou just might become more compassionate
\nFor the torture you exact
\nMurdering and ruining
\nWhich was matter of fact<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A wary and watchful warrior Assisted by clear eyes The torture of existence The persistence of the wise To be penalised for being The disharmony they create The factiousness and awkwardness It becomes their way to bait To pick a … Continue reading