Bravery and Slavery.

Is it brave to hold a rifle to his head,
To shoot and kill a good and innocent man,
Or is it slavery to duty and dread,
In a world of blood and service to the clan,
I cannot see the bravery.

Are we brave men or cowards afraid of life,
Abusing the glorious gift of free will,
Who hide in shadows and jump out with a knife.
The need for food blinds us to the prey that we kill.
I cannot see the bravery.

Is this world just a palace of butchery.
Where Peace is a short respite between two wars.
Is there a day coming without treachery,
When it is brave to help with the household chores.
That will be the day of bravery.

Is it brave of a man to attack his wife,
And crack her soft skull and break her tender heart,
Is it Slavery to the Passions of Life.
This home is littered with pain and deadly art.
I cannot see the bravery.

When a Father bashes his son in a fit,
In some effort to teach the boy discipline,
Does he not destroy the boy’s soul and spirit,
And leave him enslaved in humiliation.
I cannot see the bravery.

Can we hope to dream of a day without rage,
When a man is called brave because he sheds tears,
Or are we animals in a mortal cage?
Forever enslaved by our salient fears.