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the way of the warrior and his code of conduct for sherri's coloring the world contest |
Trained from young by stringent mentors like the bonsai tree of pines, The Samurai's Bushido creeds entwined in this heart of mine. Like the roses' supple petals our hearts must be day to day, Yet righteous swords shy not to strike those who delve in evil ways. Through time the blood of evil hands their scent in my nostrils reek, There's a refuge I must go to for the cleansing my soul seeks. To my refuge a path I take 'neath the swaying bamboo trees, My straw sandals quietly tread softly on their falling leaves. My sword and scabbard cross my back strapped with silver buckled thongs, For the downtrodden I'll unsheath to wrest their rights from the wrong. Holding the brim of my straw hat I look up at skies of blue, Summer's breezes sway branches high the noonday sun shimmers through. Cool breezes now blow up the path the falls a stone's throw away, In its cold and cleansing waters I will meditate and pray. At its pooling edge I remove the weight of my weariness, Under the cold falling waters I bare all my nakedness. Refreshed I girth myself about with a loincloth pure and white, Sword in hand I rededicate my life under Heaven's sight. A gate to Hell my sword will show to hands innocent necks choke, Unrepented they'll surely see Sheol's fiery depths and smoke. The lifeway of the Samurai no other they'll be for me, The Bushido's code of honor in my heart will always be... |