Well-fitted armor
the shield of faith
helmet of salvation
and all the rest
not heavy
Most days it buoys
helps me stand
protects in battle
makes progress
possible
But there are days
when from behind
an arrow of sadness
released
long past
flies
from a comrade's bow
strikes soft flesh
an unarmored part
a chink exposed
A strike
in defence or offence
I do not know
for I thought we battled
the same enemy
The pain is theirs
the wound is mine
but a prize awaits
for those who overcome
so I press on
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