Gentle Giant
Disorientated, he ran towards the burning light
Running from his captors, to the jeering crowd’s delight
While center stage the matador stood so brave and proud
Whipping up a frenzy, from the blood thirsty crowd
The frightened gentle giant had been held inside a box
Tormented by his captors from behind hidden locks
Vaseline used liberally to blur vision from his eyes
Newspaper in his ears, and cotton up his nostrils to snuffle out his cries
A strong corrosive solution on his legs gave greater pain and more
Too painful to stand, even more to walk, unable to lay on the floor
A needle inserted into his genitals as any gent will tell
Is the greatest testimony to all, there exists a living hell
Amongst the mass hysteria he did suddenly recognise
The one who’d bred and raised him as his winning prize
The gentle giant approached seeking to be relieved
The bond they’d shared together, in which he still believed
Each towards the other, they both made their way
The gently giant assured himself, he’d finally get away
That crowd, pleasing moment far too tempting to resist
His breeder rewarding his audience, with that show stopping kiss
It was the kiss of Judas, that final kiss of death
Taunted, the gentle giant knew, that there was nothing left
A torturous end awaited, as he fought for his life
Repeatedly blood squirting from a sharpened knife
The gentle giant that night, lingered till he died
His groans of agony drowned out by the crowd’s orgasmic high
Yet the knife that pierced his heart, was not the deepest of them all
As his eyes searched the crowd, it was not he, who fell from grace, in his final fall