Tribal bull…

I asked my muse for another tale of how the Bull King fought the mighty lion… Of the legendary brawl between the will and the pride… And how the strong may one day fall.

… Pity him, this fallen chief,
All his spendour, all his strength,
All his body’ breadth and length,
Dwindled down with shame and grief,
Half the bull he was before,
Bones and leather, nothing more.

See him standing dewlap-deep,
In the rushes at the lake,
Surly, stupid, half asleep,
Waiting for his heart to break,
And the birds to join the flies,
Feasting at his bloodshot eyes, —

Standing with his head hung down,
In a stupor dreaming things:
Green savannas, jungles brown,
Battlefields and bellowings,
Bulls undone and lions dead,
And vultures flapping overhead…

Ralph Hodgson

Bull King Tribal
The beast was here all along…


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