Suerte De Morte by M.A.Meddings
Suerte De Morte.Suerte De Morte,
in afternoon sun,
At the Plaza De Toros,
the killings begun.
Rock steady hand,
and accurate eye.
If he dares miss,
there is no second try.
Oy! Oy! Toros!
The matador's call,
Blood in the sand,
The shame of it all.
The cape twirl 'Veronicas',
and heart stopping pass,
Breath close to the chest,
The crowd all aghast.
Trail bandilleros,
Blood oozing wound,
Blinded by rage,
in the hot afternoon.
The glare of the sun,
and sound of the horn,
Just one more chance,
to drive the sword home.
The beast's final charge,
Such malice and hate,
The toreo's side step,
Just a second too late.
The sorrow and pity,
The torture and doom,
Suerte De Morte
In the hot afternoon.
The end.
Poetry by lastromantichero
Read 524 times
Written on 2005-12-05 at 22:26
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