The Intuitive Warrior,
Strong and Fierce.
Hears the call and prepares for battle,
Slowly.
Calmly.
She knows that this is a war that must be fought,
That her work will not be in vain.
Her hips are wide,
Shoulders broad.
She oils her leather armour with love,
Singing softly to herself.
When you look her in the eyes you see,
The intensity of her fierce heart,
The fire of her passion,
And the depth of her love.
Her children know that she is fierce,
And that she loves them fiercely.
But their fear is little,
Compared to the fear of her opponent.
Fighting her on the ground is like,
Fighting a tornado.
As she leaps and spins,
A whirling mass of kicking legs and sharp elbows.
She will only stab you once,
And it will be in the heart.
She wields her dagger with precision and grace,
And there is no more suffering than is necessary.
For she knows her work is sacred,
Not to be done carelessly but with honour for the opponent and the task.
I am this warrior of the heart,
The most fierce variety because I know that my convictions are true and that justice must be served.
There is no stopping courage that comes from the heart.
There is no hesitation when intentions are true.
