Keeping the demons at bay, an unrealistic undertaking.
Guarding cavalry, swiftly withering.
Limp drawbridge, that no longer retracts.
treacherous moats, not even a hindrance.
Unyielding walls, now dwarf in stature.
Torches and pitchforks, generate only snickers.
Ambushing the castle, storming through doors, seeping through cracks and crevices.

Facing them, on-on-one, is now the only option.
Formerly exercised demons, eagerly mature stronger.
Acquainted with my moves, wise to my weaknesses.
Victory in previous battles, means nothing admidst a war…

It’s now or never.
Life or death.
Win or lose.
Fight or flight, with nowhere to flee…

Ride or die, Clyde-
Do you have my six?

- R. Short