Gra, Dilseacht, Cairdeas

The Angels are the children of the land , I watch them with an arresting eye as they grow their wings with joy. I am the the Taurus with a smile, my horns are for those who play the matador. The citadins have taken sides, the bets are in and the money has been counted. Blood is the colour of his hair as it reflects dingly off the sun dried parched dirt at his feet. The air has a stench of wasted beings as I slowly turn to the sortie. The applause of the maddning crowd is deafening. My satisfaction is lacklustre as the reality of my actions begins to take affect. As I continue to saunder slowly towards the gate I observe a sea of redness that seems to quinch the thirst of the earth below. Revenge is sweet and these games are all that I have left to play so I play to win. As the coins are being placed into the cloth woven sack I am taken aback by the heaviness of it all. Another good days work , another victim, I smirk at those who would wish me dead at least not to-day. I return to whence cometh my help ,I see you there waiting patiently with a sigh of relief not knowing if yesterday was the last time. I take off my shoes and put my feet up with much slowness as I feel the pain of yet another victory. I have not been forsaken and I lift up my eyes to the out stretched heavens and feel the quiet winds as the Angels flutter their wings in unison . The stillness of moment makes me realize how much we are alike as I see the future in your eyes . I place my hand in yours as you say Gra, Dilseacht, Cairdeas.