The bull scratched its hooves hard against the soil
A cauldron of blood quickly brewed to a boil
It was man versus animal, battle lines drawn
A perfect day ruined, there was nowhere to run
The matador sized up the competition
Snubbing the king he bowed to the queen politely
Her black silk hair was shimmering nicely
This royal muse repossessed sashayed her best
Heading to the balcony on the arm of an imposter
Our hero plummeted to the ground yearning to be closer
"That used to be me escorting thee," he cried in disbelief
"Walking my beloved to chamber number three"
Blurred vision overcame him, like a blacksmith's goggles on his face
Because of the scarring he'll wear them for days
From the merciless crowd are unrelenting voices astray
Encouraging the protagonist to seize back the throne
"Slay the beast lad for it's not as strong as stone!"
The vulnerable creature, like himself, was merely flesh and bone, eyes and teeth
As weak as a puddle of rainwater on a reflecting midnight street
He made the definitive splash and once again became a valiant warrior
In his heart he knew what he'd done was right
Laughing at thunderclaps with blue skies in sight
Now when he sees it burning in those fiery brown eyes
A longing unmistakably true
It's a slippery touch to avoid and a suffocation to undo
The hierarchy was dishonored, dismantled, and considered comical
It was a once upon a time that once seemed impossible
He keeps searching for his destiny or a damsel in disguise
A black silk monarch with wood-burning eyes