Disturb Who's Peace
How carefree could you be?(Not Enough)
A rose in a crowd of thorns may have to embrace an existence filled with solitude. Instead of rushing through the gates to test the density of my skull, I’d rather nose-dive into a fragrant bouquet. The curse of difference goes unnoticed when the rest mind their own affairs. Born to be the bull in the tea shop, I became a fur-covered paradox. El Toro de Lidia, who wouldn’t raise a hoof to a fly nor a horn to a matador. Refusing to let my body become a limitation, my dear mother had no idea she gave birth to a butterfly.
My wings flap for the springtime, while the breeze brushes across my eyelids. A work of art is what my retinas detect. While many ruffle the blades of grass, the leaves are meant to be appreciated.
The sticky sap hardens on the surface of the bark while my pupils dilate. The aroma of growth travels through my nasal cavity, micro-dosing my olfactory cells. The air sifts through the pasture, singing the ballad of the meadows. Intoxicating my senses on Earth's purest form, bolstering my desire to neglect others’ unwarranted biases.
Obsessed with the Blossom
I didn’t see the folly in the other calves’ motives; I just found interest in other things besides roughhousing. The adrenaline rush caused by even the thought of photosynthesis is difficult to explain. While the spirit speaks truth, my appearance causes judgment. Residing where control and discipline are prioritized over aggression, domination has no merit in the garden.
The correlation between lifting output and determination is not always a matter of fact. But could be as simple as a flower that blooms in a desolate wasteland. A vine with the structural strength of a plastic straw, heaving fossils, rubble, debris, all to kiss the sunlight.
Petals with the density of a feather can bulldoze through stone just to feel the wind. Life’s beauty rivals that of war and slaughter, as the essence of peace is more appeasing than the rustic odor of bloodshed. Sadly, because of my kin, we are not known for much further than our hostile tendencies and the taste of our flesh.
Redefining Perception
Generations upon generations have witnessed many great bovines come and go. With dust revoking the notion of settling, oxygen is traded for a suffocating amount of tension. The roar of the crowd is deafening as a homicidal dance proceeds. Such a destiny was unavoidable for those who let their emotions run rampant. The other choice is being turned into a patty melt.
Many charged headfirst into his pre-determined fate, as the red cape leads the bull to nothing solid. The Muleta dances to the tune band; its flutters flow with the notes. Bred to headbutt anything breathing, it’s hard not to ponder why I lean towards more gentle practices.
Perception can be dangerous to all fronts. Seeing a creature of my stature will demand a type of anxiety even from those of the same species. But if you can see through the muscle and horns, what lies ahead is a lovely gardener in the making.
Instigation Irritation
Looks are a non-factor when judging the value of one’s character. Longing to be a champion of violence or seeking vengeance against my agitators serves no need. The soul speaks truth where lips may lie. Fear will not consume me as blood lust devours the audience. I dont know what is behind the crimson cloth, but intuition is screaming that it’s nothing to be entertained.
To be better is no easy task, as I put my hooves on a path that guarantees my sanity. They are begging you to lean into the anger, to push back against those who torment you. Cheering for red-blooded nature to take the center of the ring despite the consequences that may follow. Praising rash decisions and instinct to the point where you end up with a sword in your neck.
Red fibers graze over fur, only to miss your target as the anger grows. However, no such feeling has a home in my design. The applause does grow tiresome, but not enough to where instinct takes over.
Even if my ethos causes my own blood, my will is fortified. To cherish life’s beauty rather than trample will be a message heard amongst the masses or written on my tombstone. Daring to be different may have no place in this world, but alas, it finds sanctuary in my heart.
Grounded Hooves
Going against the grain has been burned into my conviction for as long as I can remember. I dont lose an ounce of sleep knowing seclusion may be the price for tranquility. Individuals from all around try to avoid a road that promises a dead end. This view is non-negotiable, even if its beauty is mine and mine alone.
Tempered steel can press against the fur, yet I will not succumb to the pressures this voracious society demands. Sometimes I wonder if they are ignorant of the gifts The Green provides, or do they lack care. How does agony bring about entertainment? Why is honor found in the defeat and shame of another, respectively? Questions I will never care to answer, for I will forever deny letting the weight of the world destroy my shoulders.