Like a bull, eyes veiled in darkest night,
Rampaging with unchecked force and blind fright.
Sightless, lost, a path unseen,
A brute’s strength, wild and unclean.
Years of toil in fields of career,
And a family held unbelievably dear,
All torn asunder by the charge of a beast,
Whose blindfolded eyes saw neither feast nor famine.
At life’s nadir, beneath burdens bowed,
Career and love, once bright, now clouded and cowed.
The familiar world, once a tapestry rich,
Turned strange and stark, a desolate ditch.
Like the bull, exhausted, battered, and bruised,
At last collapsing, strength diffused.
The blindfold slips, the eyes finally see
The havoc wrought, a grim reality.
Nurseries trampled, homes in disarray,
Hearts pierced by horns, in cruel affray.
My own heart cracks, for the sight is stark—
A life’s work undone, from dawn until dark.
Why, oh why, this path of pain?
Was my soul’s journey naught but vain?
As the bull rests, its strength waned thin,
I ponder deeply the beast within.
Is there evil here, within this weary heart?
Or just a blind beast, lost right from the start?
Trudging down the muddy road, collapsing by the river’s edge,
In the ripple’s silent tale, truth’s reflection calls—
A chance to change before the final night falls.
