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The summer sky suddenly turned into a zealous stadium.
Sun like a raging bull inside the ring of fuming helium,
full on fire with flaring flames coming out of its nostril.
Fidgeting in the middle with flickering rays like horns, until --

A set of dark clouds like toreros entered the bull’s realm.
The annoyed sun took a charge towards the cloud with helm.
The one who was waving the cape of shadow from the front
had to bear the stroke of a light beam, the attack’s brunt.

Soon the stormy winds like picadors riding on the horses
came in with their piercing lances full of dust with force.
A powerful thrust by the stormy winds exhausted the sun.
Diminished spark, broken light but the bull was not yet done.

Silver lining could be seen dispersing from the sun’s core.   
The bull was ready to score but weakened with gore.
Came in the murk suited in shades of gloom like banderilleros
and made a fierce attack on sun with heavy rain like banderillas.

The thwarted struggling bull faced severe brutality in serial,
making its way through the overgrown dark doom so surreal.
By then, a bold entry made by the zapping thunderous matador
with a flashing lightning bolt like sword, struck hard the sun’s core.

Oozing out the dark crimson blood smeared all over the sky.
Dying symbol of positivity shattered my heart and made me cry.
Either its a battle or a sport like this ends with loss and gain.
Spare me the horror...I don’t want to experience it again.


08/16/2016

Note : For the contest (Wordscapes) by John Hamilton. 
          *Placed Third*
In this poem, a thunderstorm caused by low pressure in summertime especially in tropical regions resulting in the battle between sun and storm is described as bull fighting sport scene. Excuse me for putting in a few Spanish terms.

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