A warrior never takes off their Armour
Just maybe set’s it aside for just awhile.
Then while the battle inside their soul rages on
They always know… where their Armour resides.
It might be setting in a corner
Just a bit dusty from the lack of use.
But if called once again to duty
It will withstand any on-coming given abuse.
Once a warrior always that
No matter what you might want to think.
Warriors’ all in God’s army of hand picked soldiers
Even though sometimes taken to the brink.
By: Linda Winchell
Copyright: 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem