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Wounded Bull

Updated: Jul 5

A wounded bull,

Exposed heart,

Cries out in his morning wake.

Blood pools in the shadow of his past.


A bowed head,

Panting softly in humility,

Fails to see the rising sun.

Warming rays gently caress his burdened back


A new life,

Beckons him to stand.

Unaware,

The balm has been applied.

The healing has begun.


Aquila Scott

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