Is there, still fight left, in his heart
The beast, baptized by, smoldering dust
Or in, blustering brood, of Bonaparte
Flaunting, faith in, birthright to bloodlust!
Is there, more life, in this, spectacle
Than fear, of death, in its, each ogler
Squirming, in the cage of, being banal
Machismo makes, a beast, surrogate martyr!
Can a cynosure, escape the, ravenous eyes
As spears shred, his soul to, the sadists’ delights
Life’s truth, lay devoured by, outrage of, deathly lies
As defiance, succumbs to, manly blood rites!
His head, rolls in dust, his heart, doesn’t beat
Who won, honor’s war, from a, lost matador
So oblivious, to his, pride’s defeat
Where Is, The Glory, In The Gore !!!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra