Imperfections dent armour
That we spent years building up.

A chink in my helmet
Could spell the end of me
If an arrow was pointed right.

And yet
Jumping in front of anybody
Who tries to hurt you
Would only come first in my thoughts

Never mind the sprain in my side
Or the Achilles Heel I sport
Proudly on my chest –
I’d paint a bull’s-eye over it
To distract the enemy from you.

A simple facade can be broken –
My armour would not be enough
To make me survive Troy

But I’d rather die in Troy a Roman
Defending something I believed in
Then walk away from the battlefield
With barely a scar.