The snakes and arrows a child is heir tonare enough to leave a thousand cuts.nWe build our defenses, a place of safetynand leave the darker places unexplored.nnSometimes the fortress is too strongnor the love is too weak.nWhat should have been our armornbecomes a sharp and angry sword.nnOur better natures seek elevation;na refuge for the coming night.nNo one gets to their heaven without a fight.nnWe hold beliefs as a consolation;na way to take us out of ourselves.nMeditation, or medication.nA comfort, or a promised reward.nnSometimes that spirit is too strongnor the flesh is too weak.nSometimes the need is just too greatnfor the solace we seek.nThe suit of shining armornbecomes a keen and bloody sword.nnA refuge for the coming night.nA future of eternal light.nNo one gets to their heaven without a fight.nnConfused alarms of struggle and fight.nBlood is drained of colornby the flashes of artillery light.nNo one gets to their heaven without a fight.nThe battle flags are flownnat the feet of the Gods unknown.nNo one gets to their heaven without a fight.nnSometimes the damage is too greatnor the will is too weak.nWhat should have been our armornbecomes a sharp and burning sword.