Ode to the amount space between a rock and a hard place.

Twas fury and stupidity drove me here. to this place high on a cavern ledge. I could go no farther forward for the beasties, and neigh farther back for the cliff face. I stood with my feet at a shoulder with and began to call to my ancestors to warm up some soup because I would be there directly. The Little Bastards rushed me. bobbing and squalling like rats. I could take two at a time whit this sword. three if they lined up well. I coaxed and cursed their mothers and kin. Slashed and kicked, stabbed and spit into their ugly faces. Close enough to smell the hatred on their breath. They no nothing else but war. I cannot remember anything else but killing. we make a good group, do ourselves in for sure.

I step back and again. the nicks and scratches have begun to add up. I fear that I may drain out before I can finish them all. Another step and now I can feel the ledge telling me to go no further. Ten more creatures fall to their own bravery amidst my blade, for it gives none and takes all. The question I pose here is, do I fall and hope or stand and die. It seems we have all come to this stand once in our lives. nary a one facing little green men from the middle of the earth, I’ll wager.

More horns blow in the back of the cavern, more beasties. My decision is made for me...