Armor

I heard the cling of her armor
it shined from her bruised eyes,
sword clutched in her hand
from the last hug.

There was battle on her lips
out of the field of slaughtered
where hearts were martyr
on the way to a wedding.

Then I set aflame
over her metal
until it melted
though she felt its pain,
but in her scorched nakedness
we walked,
unto a pool of tears,
bathing in its waters
cleansed the scars
leaving only a thirst
for what honey could replace
once her defenses where shambles.