His back was broad, his hands were strong
His eyes were clear and seeing.
He knew the weapons and the fight
To keep the villains fleeing.
He’d laugh & play, yet watch and pray,
In highlands with his brothers.
He loved his home, but he was one
Who’d shield & fight for justice.
Greedy, hungry, lusts for power
A hundred motives crawling
Stealing, starving, burning out
The struggling, lowly commons.
The Warrior stood between the weak
And wolves that would devour.
And waged the war with strength & guile
To save the vital hour.
In modern times, the cities came
And tamed the men to strangers.
They laugh & play, and stay away
From any battle dangers.
Nor Warriors are those slaves who fight
& maim, & rape their pride to gain.
Pain’s passion stains their very lands
By their own hands.
Urban Warriors watch and pray,
In cities with their brothers.
They love their homes, but they’re the ones
Who’ll shield & fight for justice.
They know the weapons and the fight
‘Gainst modern evils raging.
Their backs are broad, their hands are strong
Their eyes are clear and seeing.
GW (1999)
I heard about some boys in Albany who bashed a man to disablement, and there were 52 witnesses. Just witnesses.
A man over the road from me is being victimised by Developers and Council, as they change the rules for their dollar. Is the warrior blood thick enough?
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