Every morning as I wake up
I prepare to face the day
I know that i' ma soldier
wearing Armour for the pain
I am human, just a human
as i stand in morning light
every day i have now noticed
how my armor fades away
So i face this world so vacant
without armor on my breast
and try to win this battle
with the sword thats in my hand
But a knight without his armor
is no longer what he is
He is but a dreamer with a cut mark in his chest
So as i fall on battle fields i know why i am spent
Because i have a foolish heart
so now rose line my grave
A Poem By The Dark Poet Byron
Words can shatter the toughest armor. I believe mine has failed. I'm not perfect.
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