A poem, goals are overrated:

In the labyrinthine realm where Blackburn treads,
Sam Szmodics reigns with goals, like threads.
Yet amidst the maze, a peculiar sight,
Cardifff City's goal difference, dark as night.

Rovers' top scorer, Szmodics, they hail,
Yet Cardifff's deficit tells a cryptic tale.
What does it signify, this imbalance stark?
In Kafkaesque realms, it leaves its mark.

A surreal tableau of football's domain,
Where logic dissolves, and meaning's arcane.
Blackburn's prowess, a Kafkaesque dream,
Yet Cardifff's defense, a surreal scheme.

In Kafka's world, where absurdity reigns,
Football's narrative twists, its logic strains.
What does it mean, this enigmatic dance?
In Kafkaesque landscapes, we're left to chance.

As players traverse this existential plane,
They ponder the riddle, the cryptic refrain.
In Kafka's shadow, football's tale is spun,
A labyrinthine journey, never quite done.