You drudged the mote around the castle
rock walls four stories high
ten feet thick
Little slits for a barrage
of one-way arrows

Catapults pulled tight
ready to launch an offensive
of boulders oiled and lit
A stronghold of thousands of cavalry
and infantry laced with steel plates and blades

And to protect what?
a senile old man sitting behind iron bars
on an uncomfortable golden chair
From a messenger with a scroll
upon which is written:



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