Too much fucking Yin

Too much fucking Yin.  
That is briefly my problem.  
Too much softly, softly.  
Too many times where words were chosen.  
Too many simpering diplomats.  
Too much thought not enough fucking action.  
Oh dear, what if we fail?  
Oh dear, what if we die?  
So fucking what.  
If we die, we will be reborn.  
If we fail, we can always try again.  
Either way anything is better than sodding nothing.  
Why can we not change the world  
with demons and angels at our side  
And strike from oblivion.  
A roaring armoured warrior whose fist soars  
and cloak billows  
from the heart of oblivion.  
Scared of hurting, scared of failing, scared of trying.  
Too much thought and we are supposed to be a blasted man.  
 
Enough fucking Yin,  
Time for Yang  
On this boomerang path  
- I may throw my life away but it will always come back.  
Time to not die; ripples in the ocean, thunder in rain.