MY ANCESTORS WERE MEN

I like to think my ancestors were men
And I don’t mean the flimsy definition of men that some are now propagating like the gospel
Men without balls
Men with XX chromosomes
Men that are not worthy of their title
I mean men that worked with their hands till they blistered
And then worked some more
Men that held their women close
Men that won bread for their families
Kept them safe from the eager predators lurking in the jungle
I mean men that did not cower when their mettle was put to the test
I like to think my ancestors were warriors
Men who stood bravely on plains
Eyes blazing like Hell’s mouth
Nary a fear in their hearts
They went into battle with glistening swords and axes so sharp they could fell three men in one swing
They watered the grass with the blood of their enemies
And fed their adversaries to their hounds
If I am descended from such a long line of valiants
And the blood of my forefathers indeed courses through my veins
Then I too shall be unbowed in the face of trials
I will pick up every gauntlet thrown at my feet
I will ride out to battle with vigour and valour worthy of Ares
And if death should seek me
Let it find me in the midst of a thousand arrows
A legion of slain enemies on either side
Let death heave a sigh and whisper
“This was a difficult one”