The snakes and arrows a child is heir to

Are enough to leave a thousand cuts

We build our defenses, a place of safety

And leave the darker places unexplored



Sometimes the fortress is too strong

Or the love is too weak

What should have been our armor

Becomes a sharp and angry sword



Our better natures seek elevation

A refuge for the coming night

No one gets to their heaven without a fight



We hold beliefs as a consolation

A way to take us out of ourselves

Meditation or medication

A comfort ,or a promised reward



Sometimes the spirit is too strong

Or the flesh is too weak

Sometimes the need is just too great

For the solace we seek

The suit of shining armor

Becomes a keen and bloody sword



A refuge for the coming night

A future of eternal light

No one gets to their heaven without a fight



Confused alarms of struggle and flight

Blood is drained of color

By the flashes of artillery light

No one gets to their heaven without a fight

The battle flags are flown

At the feet of a god unknown

No one gets to their heaven without a fight



Sometimes the damage is too great

Or the will is too weak

What should have been our armor

Becomes a sharp and burning sword