Soft

A natural reaction to offence is defence

and walking on corpses of defeated enemies is justified

because you know for a fact that they would walk all over you

It is, unfortunately, true.

And yet, it bothers me. I simply cannot do it

and not because I am not good at slaying

but precisely because I am.

I can see myself cutting them right and left

with sweet words whispered into the right ears .

I sometimes take offence and do exactly that

but it brings me little satisfaction.

I feel ill and wrong; dirty from head to toe

and even though I have the right to lash out

I prefer to keep my hands clean and my head straight

I don’t want to hurt ’em. I don’t want anyone to hurt.

It’s stupid because nobody will return the favour

There is no saviour nor knights nor a slightest bit of goodness

Human nature is not made for such things;

and it’s all right. I am not an angel

I am hardly on the angel’s side on a good day,

But still I cannot.

I refuse to actively pursue my offenders.

The thought of stooping to their level makes me sick

I rather wish them well and fight tooth and nail for finding the mercy inside

to forget and forgive – move on!

I am good at that after years of practice.

I feel better like that

even though they say you must be hard as rock to survive…

meah…

I prefer to be soft and, you know, live.

2 thoughts on “Soft

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