What Is It Good For?
You are my warrior.
The fighter, my own.
Let me be your armour,
And never outgrown.
I cry for you, warrior,
Or one day I might.
If you, gentle lover,
Are called up to fight.
For you would be taken,
With no time to think.
And see in your armour
The slightest of chinks.
A chink which could open
The door for just one
Arrow, or spear...
Or kiss from a gun.
Copyright © Annabelle Jane | Year Posted 2010
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