War Of The Heart Poem by Thomas Wicker

Your fire hits my skin
And strengthens up my shell
But your bullets strike with ease
And from my tower I fell

You leave my corpse unaided
There alone to rot
Warmth leaves my heart and I become
A cold carcass at that spot

Then you heal my wounds
And open my eyes
And with your permission from the grave
Once more I rise

You strip my defenses
No walls left around
Then with a smile and a glance
Once more you cut me down