We are a broken men.
We are children who read about pirates and swords and evils to be defeated and grew to find there was no seafaring to be done.
The world became small as we searched and surfed it’s many edges and lines and found there was no mysterious orient, no Atlantis to dream of, and that anything to be done could be done sitting down.
We have forsaken our first love. We have left our ten thousand ships at home and Helen to her captors. We have thrown out our children of honour, loyalty, and most of all courage with the medieval bath water of inequality and ignorance.
We have become men without a nation, without hearts, or chests to bolster when trial comes our way.
We must be mended. We must protect our honour and our glory by placing it on God. We must feel the blood rising as our chests regrow and circulation returns to our hearts. Our children will be fought for and we will never forget that loving someone does not mean doing what they want. Love is violent. It is unwavering. It us unhinged and terrifying as a tidal wave. When someone claims love they must imagine a million treacherous enemies in their path waiting for a slip or a stutter. We must imagine the lions crouching outside our doors in the darkness. And we must master them or be destroyed.
We must take our souls seriously. And eternity as weighty. We must stand before evil and bow before our King. We must fuse our joints if we become weak in the knees.
We should at least try to never sleep without our hearts and souls secured.
We should be strong enough to be forgiving, bold enough to be seen caring.
We should become men once again.