Dying… men run from it… In groups, in gatherings, and in masses they do…I did too… for the longest time. Then, like a fugitive slave sick of being afraid… I stopped, I turned around, looked the devil with his barking and spit frothing hounds square in the eyes, I clenched my fist, flexed every muscle in my body and screamed at him “ My name is Pack Redfeather! And I wasn’t created and born to be ur damned slave! So $&@) u!… ur going to have to fight me for mine’s because I’m done running!… I may be alone in my vision’s direction and completely out numbered in what faces me… but I got a smile on my brown and bearded face… I’m a believer in what I see…and I’m not talking about this petty world everyone’s so attached to… only spiritual warriors can understand… do u?…