His bow is his mind,
His arrows are his skills,
His quiver is full.
The story
of his face paint is replaced by the
stories in his heart.
The hand print on his pony is replaced
by the hand prints left on the lives he has
touched.
While he wears a shirt and tie,
he is still a warrior none the less.
He does not seek out the battles,
the battles find him
His foes curse his name.
Injustice
is the battle field.
As with the warriors of old, the reasons for war
remain the same,
Someone must protect
the child,
the elder,
the weak.
Principles and values, honor and dignity will
forever be the spoils.
The mighty warrior remains proud at heart.
He walks the gauntlet of indifference, and
apathy.
He marks coup each time the suffering
rejoices with equality.
The quiet warrior,
the spirit warrior,
the
modern warrior.
