Her pain, her armor

Her shield, her heart

Her love, her lance

Her tears, her war paint

Armor old and tarnished

Her whole life's story written in every seam and crease

Her shield welded stitched and belted

Her lance broken and mended

She takes a blow and her heart's blood flows

She falls only to rise again

Her shield held ready

Her lance leveled

Armor ready to take a new dent

Broken and bruised

Battle weary

Too stubborn to be defeated

When a new battle calls her eyes glow ready to take a hit

No surrender her battle cry

For her armor has not rusted away yet

Her shield has not bled out

Her lance still remains strong

She dons fresh war paint and carries on

For the next encounter might very well be her victory