A Chink in the Armor

It’s the chink in the armor,

But not the one on your heel.

It’s not the one you can see

with your eyes.

It’s the sense of dread you feel,

Like a blade,

sharp,

cold,

cutting.

Like someone found the chink in your armor.

But not the one you had expected.

It’s not the problem you planned for.

Not a pain for which

you had the antidote.

You had prepared for the chink in your heel;

You knew the scorpion by name.

Yet,

they found it.

It?

You didn’t even know what it was,

where it was.

But, you know who found it.

Don’t you?

They walk away proud,

Not even knowing what they had done.

Waving,

Smiling,

They move in golden glow.

No words,

no protest,

You stand a little smaller than before.