Battle Worn Poem by Athena King

God,
Heavenly Father,
Lord,
My shield is heavy,
It has holes,
It is rusted,
But I still have my shield.
My sword is weighty,
It has dulled,
It no longer gleams,
But I still have my sword.
My shoes drag upon the ground,
The soles are worn through,
The toes are scuffed
But I still have my shoes.
My chest plate crushes me,
It has lost its shine,
It has no sigil
But I still have my chest plate.
My girdle is pulling me,
It has twisted,
It is dirty,
But I still have my girdle.
My helmet presses me,
It has rusted,
It has dented
But I still have my helmet.
My dearest Lord:
I am battle weary.
I have cried.
I have bled.
But I am,
I will be,
I must be,
Your daughter always.