As the thorn prick my little life box,
I sit and stare in speechless emotion.
True, I saw it in the wicked eyes of the bull.
Though as I sit and bleed in the devils kraal,
My shattered mirror couldn’t reflect not even the good times.
As a silent death strike hate built,
Ignoring the past frenemy by choice
As life took a different detour to the end of the world.
There goes our friendship.