Manuel The Matador

This poem is from the point f view of a tauro in a tounament that take place usually in Sevilla, Spain.

Dance, dance, I'll make you dance again

They have closed the doors behind me

Why would I be afraid?

As I end up facing a ridiculous dancer.

 

They have closed the doors behind me

As I end up facing a ridiculous dancer

I've never learned to fight before

We'll see who will laugh last.

 

As I end up facing a ridiculous dancer

We'll see who will laugh last

Many of you tried to bow me down

I'll catch you, make you turn and fly.

 

We'll see who will laugh last

I'll catch you, make you turn and fly

Dance, dance while you still can little doll

I'll make sure this time you won't slip away.

 

I'll catch you, make you turn and fly

I'll make sure this time you won't slip away

You want me to eat the sand?

Bow down to me now, my toreador.

 

I'll make sure this time you won't slip away

Bow down to me now, my toreador

But where do they come from those acrobats?

They hit me deep in my neck.

 

Bow down to me now, my toreador

They hit me deep in my neck

A soft feeling of sand under my head

They scream of joy as I succumb

 

They hit me deep in my neck

They scream of joy as I succumb

They dance around my tomb

Ole, ole, Manuel you won this time.

Reviews

[Kushal]

This is a fantastic poem. I love it. ^_^
The way it has been written, each paragraph a continuation to the other, is just lovely. ^_^

[writing mojo]

I love the power in this piece, the commanding presence is breath taking from this control of words, a rift twirling dance which you captured well...

[V]

This has a slight ominous feeling. I love it. It was fantastic.