Self-defense

Even if you're a strong-armed warrior,

Or one whose slightest touch masters horses,

You'll set no siege before my door,

A place defended by all that's wild.

Fearsome peaks picket my cliff-side cave,

And thunder, blinding rain and mist enshroud the day.

So well protected, so fortified by chaos,

Being no Confucius, I rescue no one.

Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated Jul/Aug 2003
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