Is the law then against the promises of God?  
God forbid:  for if there had been a law given which could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the law.  

Gallantly,
reading the promise
if though
the hero's that hold the
sacred rose.  
The cape,
red and gold,
the legend of
the Talamud of old.
Bowing to break
the silence for to tell
the bull is the raposte
of the craft when
he snorts he guffs
scratching the surface
of the grave.
Braver and bolder
than the resting lore holds
the written tall lyric
of how bull fighters
speak to solem vows.
Did he or didnt he
warn the few
as the crowd revels
they reveal the truth.
To live or die by
the horns they hold.
A small last dance
to the left and right
the swirling
the sparrow and the robin
know
the footsteps between
the audience throws
the steps to flight
the steps to debt.
In between his teeth
he reveals, the color of
the flower to place on
the stones.  
The bull
or the hero lies here.
A few turns
a few lies, a few more
moments before the bull
dies.  To the clarity and
chagrin, the fighters
are the audience who
hold no pen.   They
stream to hymm the very
step, the very step for the
win.  
He snorts and shuffles,
looks to the crowd
the bull now knows
he is to die.  
Choosen to
write the score
of the mused sick
audience sore.  
And to these
days there are
laws that exist
to protect
the fortune
of the bold.  
Authority, sword,
word in hand,
and by law
of this land
do we save
the bull because
we
are colder than
the bull's sin.  
Trampled or true
the bull is free
untill the bull fighter
meets the
crowds revelry.