My Writings

The Tiger and the Monkey

When the hunt begins, we will move side by side, even though you were born a tiger, and within me I embraced the monkey. You are unstained and pure. I am rotten. Within me you can only find a mockery of life as I laugh away the human terror. But you have embraced the burden and now carry it on your broad shoulders.

I was colored by my devotion. And you are crystal cold water – one always sees clearly when staring into your well. Thin smoke covers it, as it burns in the friction of your movement, and then is blown away by a keen eye and a mind unburdened – a force of will unmatched and the voice of a man who lived through a hundred wars to tell the tale.

I am fanatical and arrogant, I pride myself of being the lowest of the chosen, but one of them. In my brightest days I even abandon my ego and speak like a soul. On other days I only strive towards the goal.

I am all smiles and nectar, and you are a hard hit in the gut to those who deserve it. To the weak you are the hand to lay them down softly on the ground.

When the world sleeps, far from prying eyes, you draw. Then the creator in you awakens and you manifest another kind of power – one that is our birth-right and the price for my insanity. Strangely wise, you prefer not to speak. Rather, you are all action.

I cry out – let the world know that the Warrior has returned.

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