Castled

From my impenetrable castle they laugh,

poking, prodding, jabbing, stabbing.

They have taken control of what was once mine,

and they know they are invincible.

I consider for a second destroying the walls to their castle,

but that castle was once my castle,

and to destroy it would be to knock down all I've worked for.

I carefully dance around the battlefield, 

avoiding all that I can.

From the towers, arrows rain,

the drawbridge up, the castle not even accessible. 

Retreat is not an option,

but how do I advance?

The victories are not even truly victories.

We take out one archer,

even if they are not replaced immediately,

we know that there are more archers ready to take their place.

Morale is wavering,

my once glorious army, now strewn across the field.

The flowers which used to stand looking lovely,

now smashed and covered in blood.

The arrows have stopped flying from their towers,

almost sympathetically.

The enemy feels bad for me and my army, and this is the worst defeat of all.

I gather what is left of my army for one final assault,

I give an inspiring speech (or whatever I can muster),

and on one final wave of hope we charge the castle walls,

but then I realize that there was never any hope of victory.

I would never destroy my beautiful castle.

We drop our weapons and wait politely outside.

Perhaps someday soon they'll be kind enough to finish us off.