Ballet of Death

Ballet of Death As trumpets prepare emotions This sordid art knows well My hooves stomp impatiently Raising clouds of dust Enshrouding my entrance With shouts and whistles A crowd's tense moments Engulf this gladiator's arena Demanding courage and blood Far away The grassy hills Of his Ganaderias estate Stands my sire Now out to pasture Erect and proud Amidst sadness retirement brings Once close to arena fame Determined better as stud He raises his head The air has changed He knows the scent of fear The distance it can travel He scrapes the ground The matador awaits the pageantry I shoulder my pen bars Holding back muscled power Energy primed for destruction My challenger readies his cape I squint at the sun through dusty air A beast's freedom that might have been Were not this My first time Most likely My last time Such brutal grandeur awaits Stage one Banderilleros Astride proud mounts Parading to applause Preparing to tempt my will Their colorful presence To test my vision The picadors await stage two Armed with lance Saddled atop padded and blindfolded steeds Ready to break my will What will their first piercing feel like? Will my neck be numb for the rest Or will it but set afire my zeal to live? Banderilleros anticipate stage three Their barbed banderillas Flag-like with colored local papers Held ready to weaken my neck further My loins tremble with hope Knowing my destiny is to charge Expend my energy Then... trample my own blood As the magnificent matador and I Perform our finite ballet This dance of death My enclosure's bolt is about to be lifted Soon Very soon The matador's flourishing cape Its crimson and gold tricks of ecstasy Will swirl about and around The stoic-faced tempter Suddenly grinning with anticipation While soiling himself The piercing will come I'll not allow pain any glory I will drool Defecate Urinate My legs will buckle The sword now in my neck The nerves failing my brain Blood loss weakening my heart Suffering passing quickly I'll at last experience Man's insane pleasure My fallen passion Bathed in blood Dragged away by rope and horse So many hours So many training capes So many horses taunting me So many chances to fail into freedom Chances to be respected Like my father Faithful father I will miss you