Stab Vest

The end growled,
So I put on some body armour,
A flimsy stab vest,
To protect me from the bite of her exit,
And indeed did a knife come,
Sharp as a sour tongue,
And heated red in a lovers forge,
An anvil rendered mute thereafter,
There was no malice in the blades drive,
Nor the hand behind it,
Just a soul scorned,
My vest prevented a terminal break,
But the strike bruised all the same,
Freezing a heart in its cell,
Forever more.