this blade worn through

This blade worn through like a soldier’s pride
Grey and melancholy
This shield too heavy like my heart
The mood is not too jolly

And this plate mail worn to thin
Like a heart without a beat
The battle is not over
But I can surely smell defeat

My hands worn so heavy
With blood red stains on hold
Chain’s so thick and heavy
And the battle axe too bold

She said come home with your shield
Or lay upon it on your return
I’m not supposed to cry I am a Spartan
But I feel the tears burn

And as the horns ring for us to come
I lay upon my shield
But I fought with honor and courage
And I did never yield