Suit of Armor

I wear a heavy cast for you
to see that you might make it through.
A slayer of dragons you may have become,
but trust me dear child, this battle isn’t one.

For upon the hill we shall fight battle two
then on to three perhaps a victory.

Though you know as you run the lap of fame;
there in the darkness begins another game.

Off you shall run to the battlefield.
How much longer to this will heart yield?

The corners are hairpin and blades of grass sharp.
There isn’t a blanket, umbrella, or tarp.

Nothing guaranteed on this bloody field of waste.
As you look to distant massacre, life was lived in haste.

For you swallowed all the riches as the bounty came to be.
Yet the riches shuffled onward, leaving scattered history.

For the soldier stripped the armor and left it on the ground.
Given up belief is lost amid the sound.

Cracked and bloody knees embedded in the soil.
God is always waiting to help you through the toil.

Muddy walls of shame shall wash away with rain.
And as you clasp each buckle a new layer you shall gain.

For up along the hill as you stare along the crest;
there will be the answer as you fight your level best.

Giving up one arsenal will lighten up the load.
Debt will become solitude for pay to what is owed.

Off into the distance, this brave soldier marches on.
Atop the hill of faith, I shall remember every song.