We live in a time when people are generally uncomfortable with the Warrior form of masculine energy – and for good reasons.  Women are especially uncomfortable with it, because they have often been the most direct victims of it in its shadow form… This is the age in the West of the “soft masculine”, and it is a time in which radical feminists raise loud and hostile voices against the Warrior energy.  — Robert Moore, “The Warrior”, King Warrior Magician Lover, p75

Meet my shadow warrior.

It is the part of me that takes action, the part that moves without thinking.  It understand the aggression and brutal force that is required to do what is done.  Its edge is sharpened, senses heightened.  Ready to move, to strike.  To cut.  To kill.

My Warrior is alive within me.

And so is my Shadow Warrior.

Tainted by the pain of my forefathers, my rage forces me towards destruction.

He lives inside me.  I own him.  My discipline holds him back from the brink.

Meet my Shadow Warrior.

He is a sadist, a power of unflinching cruelty.  He is driven by pain and by hate.  He is born from a place devoid of joy and love.   He wants to crush what is lovely and delicate.  He has the desire to conquer only to devastate.  He hungers to torture his victims before death.  He takes and he devours.  He craves hot blood.

He is meticulously trained.

He stalks the night.

He drives the knife in the dark.

But do not mistake him for his brother.

The Warrior in his glory.  They are so, so similar.

Both take action without mercy.  One is driven by fear, the other by excitement.

Both cut deeply for their interests.  One to destroy, the other to protect.

Both can penetrate with overwhelming force.  One to devastate, the other to liberate.

Meet my shadow warrior.

And see his brother reflecting in his eyes.

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