I am worn-out by wars -
Boadicea with my
Gold and battle-cars, my
Torques of silver and
My braided hair - see me
Proud amid my horses
And my warriors - grim-
Faced and fey, skin-
Covered and sworded, I am
Good as my word and I
Stand firm as the tide - give way
For no man, but worn,
Worn, by too much
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