Bullfighter and Bulls

A fuming, fierce and moving target On yor species will you place yor bet! Aiming the blade into shoulder blade or beating heart all toreadors hope to throw that fatal decisive dart! This bullyboy to score a bloodied bullseye in bullfight! O'course not for the fainthearted that gory sight. Well, that counts timid me out from any bullring naturally I a bulwark against this lurid thing. I find in the sport a sort of sadism Like cockfights it must reek of masochism. The carmine cape, the only screen between him and the jaws of death or should I say rather, the sickle horns of death Oh no, what if the matador ain't ever allowed to catch his breath? For promoters a thrilling spinechilling Spanish folk art in arena For objectors a bloodsport they wish as dead as the myth of Athena. The Spanish might be divided about their picadors on this sporty bloody battle between man and beast No telling till when spectators will throng to watch those matadors while I wonder do they on the trophy bull then feast? Ah ban it to history or fan it to the future Call it cruelty or not, oh the thrills of our humankind Tis fair play or fair game for the raging bull tis half blind? Yet if any bloodlust instincts be satiated by those stuntmen toreros matadors maybe far better than murderers and war heroes.