My shield
My shield
My shield was stripped asunder
In bloody strokes as I scream and thunder
For the world would now see
A naked-ness not wanted by me
How could I be so alone and bare
When the world just stands and stares
While I gather together what’s left
To salve my wounds and bind my breast
So what of a saviour in how I toil
Do I plead for forgiveness as I broil
Or will my foe be sated with my blood
As I stand naked bleeding in the mud.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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