Twenty-Six Tired, Old Rams [Poem]

[Underground_Network]

The imperial guard
In their armor, blue and yellow,
Defend the castle's
Left flank with a series
Of catapults and twenty-six
Tired, old rams.

They see the enemy,
A swirl of red and green
On the distant horizon,
And they take twenty-five
Of the twenty-six tired, old rams
And place them onto the catapults.

One by one the golden-horned
Gray-faced, tired, old rams
Glide through the frenzied blue sky
Subconsciously determining their fates.

They land directly on top of the swirl of red and green,
And the red explodes atop the green, overshadowing it
And presenting itself in a slightly darker shade.
The imperial guard stands triumphant
And the last tired, old ram
Nibbles on the grass in front of him,
Where the green dominates the red.