Mechanical

The Shield is Bludgeoned
The Armour is Creaking
I'm Afraid to Discard it
More Afraid to Repair it

Without Metal I'm Naked
But the Price to Assuage it
Costs Slivers of Bone
some Sinews and Nails

The Smith never Speaks
And the Transaction gets Cheaper
as He heats the Material
over red Coals loaned from Hell

Our fate is in Struggle
Like any soul upon ground
I feel nothing Sharp or Stinging
Not the Breeze or Warm Tide

I will Die in my Armour
or Die in some Field
Behind the Home of my Parents
Where I ran with my Brother