Leader of Men

In a world of bubble wrap and footballers who start crying if you touch their leg, what does it mean to step up and accept responsibility, to become a man?

Let them challenge me, and let me prove my mettle; bared teeth and a heart of darkness, no smoothed edges, only cunning. 

Standing my ground, no more running.

Let them hear my roar and see my cold fury. Let these layers fall from their mind eye; so I can be free from judge and jury. Free to be wild whirlwind and innate incarnation.

Then they will know me, as I am; a waterfalls drop from an ancient world.

Resting, restrained within the walls of a creaking dam; I deny my nature and shun my form, but, try as I might, will never escape the storm. 

It rumbles low and deep, and ever makes my spine tingle; distant but never asleep.

“To be, or not to be?”; that primal question, the divide from the prowling tiger or the howling wolf that sees but cannot know, feels but cannot show, improves but cannot grow.

My own answer comes molded in the shape of my mind; concepts refined over times ebb and flowing grace, though marred by shadows;

reformation of past disgrace; an evil taint that lays heavy across our furrowed brow,

a cruel reflection for the domesticated cow.

So then, to a new answer;

Are we to cower in fear at that which defines our past? Or take our chance on the dice already cast; a last hope at a prayer long since asked.

If this is a charge I must take, then let me take it with all that I am; let heads turn and shake in amazement as though I knocked their soul, with the force of splintered battering ram.

I will seize upon my fateful chance and say “boo” to silent stars as they hang in lasting dark.

I will burn bright and not leave this world until I have made my mark; hark and lark until laughter reigns the hearts of men.

Then?

I will own each moment that compels life to run in my heart; and galvanise into action those who are still yet to start.

I will give everything I have to give to my fellow. I will face each new challenge with a mind that is mellow.

I will make the universe envy my love for this life. Will find ease in pure joy, and provide for my wife.

I will be the leader of men, an inspiration for all. I will be there at the beck, and the whim, and the call.

But

I will answer to no man, and will hold my morals dear. 

I will temper my rage, my pride and my fear.

I will think back on my life one day, and remember how I chose to live.

Won’t find regret or sadness there though; I gave what I had to give.

Author's Note

The main point I wanted to convey, through subtle touch, was the disconnect between what being a man has meant historically, and what being a man means now. If, for example, a man can only consider himself thus if he believes himself to be virtuous (or unscrupulous), and indeed judges this by his peers, then doesn't the knowledge of all the terrible things mankind has done somewhat detract from the way he see's himself. Take, for instance, the atrocities of war, how does this connect with who he is as a person.

I try to portray this by describing western society as cattle whose reflection is that of a beast. While I think it works on a subtle level, I did not want to detract from the core theme, ie. what it means to be a man, too much.