Every being on this planet is given two choices, those choices are the sword or the knee.
Should one collapse to his knees, bowing as if his enemy were king? Or should one take what's coming to him and fight onwards?
He who holds his head up high and as swords and knives come for his head are the bravest to walk the Earth, his deep battle scars, dripping blood and pouring tears will live on in generations to come.
Whereas he who flees from his troubles with his tail between his legs like a rat are mere cowards who can't stomach the tears of failure and the monstrous and persistent wall that is adversity.
The sword or the knee? Should one walk a lonely valley of death and swim in an shallow ocean of blood to make to the top and kiss the setting sun?
Or should one return home a failure and look into the face of his children? "Everything is going to be fine," he tells them hoping they wouldn't see the lies that escape his lips
The sword or the knee? Will he become one of greats? Will he forever be inducted into the hall of fame? Or will he just another nameless face who couldn't handle the pressure? What will he tell his starving children?
The sword or the knee? One leads to glory, the either leads to empty promises.
