The Final Attack

The war had for ages persisted

With the Enemy growing stronger

And our attempts

At making, but a dent

In Its armour

Were undone, with a ruthlessness

Worthy of a scourge

A wipeout.

The last battle began months ago

The Enemy stationed its tiniest troops

Everywhere inside our territory

As evil as they were small

These troops

Broke us piece by piece from within

Until I was left to remain

A prisoner of my own design

An alien to my own kind.

For months thus I was

Confined

To the inner reaches of my fortress

My tower, my battlements

My strongest defences

The only place the Enemy

Could not harm if It touched

And the Enemy knew

But touch it did

While starve we did, those troops

As best we could

The Enemy prepared for an offensive

A final assault

That would penetrate our greatest walls

Outer, inner, mental

And break our spirits

And our world would follow.

While inside our walls we hid

The Enemy amassed

Armies upon armies

Bred for the sole purpose

Of devouring hope

And leaving but despair in its wake

We knew it was coming

We waited

Every second was a countdown.

Then it began.

The vast armies of the Enemy

Emerged from the skies

A million horses, grey, white and black

Charging

Carrying archers, poised

Led by the swiftest phantoms at the Enemy’s command

Such as could not be seen

But only felt

As they thundered through every gap

And everything in it swayed madly.

We knew futile any resistance was

We gathered all out troops inside

Clothes on the rods

Plants in the pots

We emptied all out outposts

Closed all the gates

And waited, silently,

For the assault to begin.

First came those dreaded phantoms

Rustling through our outposts

Rattling our gates, our walls too

Doing the Jovian Winds proud

Our battlements

Broke apart

Swayed

Flew into each other

Then in a heap of debris

Scattered on the field.

From our glass windows we watched

As the Enemy drew closer

The horses’ hooves clamouring

In ear-splitting rumbles

While the trees around our fortress

Already began to bow

Of all the devices of the Enemy

Fear was the worst.

Terrified we sat

As the horses flew over our tower

And the archers

Rained arrows upon arrows at our walls

At our centimeters of concrete

And millimeters of glass

On one side of which

We stood and prayed

And on the other, carnage.

In desperation I cried

“I’m not your foe!

I don’t want to be your foe!

Why must you so

Relentlessly

Seek to destroy my towers

And all that I create inside them

My world?”

Over the archers’ bows and the horses’ hooves

In Its most intimidating rumble,

The Enemy spoke.

“I don’t.

My foes are not your towers

Nor your creations

Nor your world.

Deep down

You know where my true foe is

And I will seek him

Forever.”

I stepped out.

I let the hooves’ noise fill my brain

I let the phantoms swift breeze through me

I let the arrows fall and drizzle down my cheeks

I let myself feel

Not vanquished

Freed

As the true Enemy

That behind my eyes lived

Was destroyed

And I joined this army

As it marched towards

The next tower.