Paper Armor for the Weak
 

Ben Stivers
11/26/05

Paper Armor for the Weak

From rise to wake breathes life in these walls,
Slipped by the noose against your neck,
And break my back to keep your feet planted,
To stand until they cut me down.

Only what lies to the east
And sleeps on false claims
Can rob me of the weight.

Will I stand until I'm bled of the strength
To climb upwards toward the doors of rapture,
Without hands to bear these stakes.
Or am I to push through the gallows,
Like the perished must push through the styx,
Without head to bear these thorns.

Without head to bear these thorns.

Could we live in a world
Where safety just parallels complete loss?
And if no one wore the armor,
Would safety lie between your heart and the tip
Of a blade?