Child Of The Matador

Thirteen years Inside your play To rise one day And find you dead The world had fled With much unsaid My last paternal kiss Thirteen years I missed your touch I missed so much A life unfurled That hand you held That child you hurled Against a razor fence In mine eyes such hate did shine Devoid of knowledge, ill-defined Nurtured in protective lies There is no conquest in demise Nineteen years Outside your play I broke that day And rose to feel The distance heal Drift now in peace My last paternal kiss A life unfurled That hand you held That child you hurled Against a razor fence