They are ever
with me
iron clad and
clanking
shiny on the
outside
rusty blood within.
They bring spears
and swords
and for sport
they prod me with
pikes
and jibe with
halberd.
They are raucous
with their insults
and their battle
cries,
they are nameless
in anonymous armour.
But they announce
their allegiance
with their coat
of arms
and sin is their
name.
This crowded
battle ground
is littered
with their kin -
an angel army
carries my flag.
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