I have no children, but have occaisionally thought
about the implications of bringing children into the
world. Also I'm no warrior, I'm purely defensive,
(but sometimes the best defense is a good offense)


I fight, I struggle, I carry the ball,
No comprimise, I win, I want it all,
In this game only weak men cry,
I'm so tough, I even refuse to die.

I'm a man, I have a free will,
The power to create is my basic thrill,
I cut through the world, like a knife thru butter,
But even the meanest men must learn to be lovers.

Self-preservation and the avoidance of death,
Creates a separate psychology from the rest,
You're alone in the world, a protected entity,
A desolate soul, unable to share reality.

We're beaten down, and no matter how hard we try,
The world has been cursed, we're all sentenced to die,
So why fight? We're nickled and dimed to death,
The struggle is useless, one hundred years at best.

The answer is paternity, programmed into the cells,
What else could drive you to go thru such hell,
Create new life, pass the torch on,
Maybe the world will be better for your son.

So there it is, that's the release,
A burden off your shoulders, a chance for peace,
The warrior can rest with the honorable decision,
The fate of the earth belongs to the next generation.

© copyright 1997 by zentara