I walk, meek as a sheep, amongst a herd of weak and shallow men. While within the interior of another sheep in the herd, lies a man enraged. At one time my kind where worshipped, the warrior, a class unto itself. Tribute was paid to the warrior for fear he would change his allegiance. Now we must hide and contain the spirit of our ancestors. We are maligned and slandered at every opportunity by a population that is slain by words. We cannot emote or defend, less we offend a class of people who’s only skill is victimization. How long must the warrior sheath his sword and maintain a demeanor of weakness? Till the time is right! When the weak, once again realize they need the warrior, he will be unleashed, allowed to roam free and serve his retainer for their well being. How many warriors will again fall for the savior of the corrupt and weak? Hopefully they will stand firm and realize that they are mighty and can determine their own destiny. I said one time that no one knew the amount of violence it took to be this peaceful. Nor the amount of pain to be this compassionate. One person laughed, having never known violence or pain. Rather than explain it I simply walked away, only the warrior understands the battles within to not do what you know how to do to right the wrongs. Nor the pain in seeing the demise of civil society, the wolves praying on the sheep without fear of repercussions. Violence and pain teach a man patience, to choose battle wisely and be the determining factor in the resolution. Sleep peacefully tonight, we stand on the wall ready to do violence on your behalf. We only ask that the shock and repulsion when we do be repressed , and not cause outrage for the monsters we have slain.
Be Aware, Be Prepared and if necessary Be Dangerous!
757 Sheepdog 