Honor
There is no such thing as a born coward
Only those who learn and grow into forgetfulness
An honorable man is not one who lives without fear
But one who has remembered to respect it
Fear is a beast that lurks in every man’s heart
A parasite of necessity that fears even for itself
If one does not respect the purpose that it serves
Then it will grow to understand only two things:
A maliciously indifferent world, and its own raw power
Wasted without proper purpose and ready to lash out
When fear becomes one’s enemy then the battle is already lost
It consumes men and turns them into hateful reflections
Born of a misinterpreted cosmos
The world bore each and every man lovingly
Expecting quite innocently for them to remember
The trust and respect given them implicit in their creation
As given to every creature before and ever after
But there is a sickness inherent in humanity
How easily it is they come to forget
Who they are and where they have come from
Proud man from the mud will have nothing to do with the mud
The earth womb becomes backdrop to imagined loneliness
The jackal preys on the rabbit, the harsh winter on the forest
An impeccable cycle of life and death
But for man, who imagines himself sole victim to its spin
Ubiquitous fear causes him to shed respect in his methods of abatement
And this is why, in what is assumed to be mutual simian despair
So many grow to view the world as inherently wicked
This view inevitably extends to their fellow man
As all potential predators who must first be made prey
But not all men are wicked
Otherwise such words as honor, respect, dignity
These would not even be required to exist
They would simply remain exemplified
In the actions of every wordless beast
that accepts the terms of its existence
Evil is a uniquely human trait
It lies in causing harm that is not necessary to survival
It is pain inflicted without insight, death dealt in disrespect
Fear-born hatred without a leash
Ultimately, honor is a simple matter
For which words are only necessary to persuade the infirmed
The universal law is thus:
All living creatures are born with perfect knowledge of what is right.
Those who have forgotten,
Those who pretend not to know what is right,
Those who draw a blade before first extending a hand,
Those who use learned words to attempt to muddle the unspoken,
inherent morality of nature into convenient human subjectivity,
Those who destroy life not out of self-defense nor for sustenance
but only so that there is less of it around
to remind them of their own self-loathing,
These are those that deserve to die.
As dictated by the very codes they choose to live by
The enemies of honor shall be shown no mercy
For it does not exist as some outside arbiter
Not something that deigns to judge or punish the deeds of man
Only to stand as a reflection of what is in his heart
For the noble man finds ally in it, one much like himself
Willing to work in mutual respect
towards strength and understanding, he is now whole
While the wicked man sees only his deadliest enemy
One as cunning and pernicious as he, he is cut in two
Both halves equally dedicated to the other’s demise
Honor is strength, and it is death.
It is the conquering of self.
It cannot be gained or lost.
Only looked upon,
Or ignored.
