Their leader dropped his head

He cried out one last time in the midst of battle

“It’s too much!”

The lions roared and the hired hand took flight

As he fled, he felt encumbered and cast off the belt of truth

And lust moved in

The breastplate of righteousness was too heavy

With it cast aside

Lawlessness was free to fill his heart

His flock of men followed

Removing peace from their feet

They quarreled with one another

Over the remaining rations

They sold their shields

Having doubt about the usefulness of these
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“We are no longer at war.”

(Nodding their heads in agreement)

Their helmets of salvation obscured their well groomed hair

“Perhaps some fair maidens —

Will take us in if we are presentable.

No need for these helmets”

Lastly the flaming sword of the spirit of truth was tossed

Into the sea of apathy

The maidens opened the gates

To the Fortress of Probability

And so they remain

Warning all who would dare to leave this comfort!

And telling tall tales of valor

Concerning the battles of days gone by….