The True Veneer

my flesh tells me that my hand
is meant to hold a blade
and my shoulders to carry the weight
of mankind's many years of smithing
my legs to grip and guide
the passage of my steed
my feet encased to meet and beat
the dusty sun strewn earth

yet the something within
holds this warrior body still
commands the grasp of a pen
in the stead of a sword

these instincts vie
almost equally
until in my mind's eye
I can't tell which, if any,
is the true veneer