a lack of glory

men want to journey past the forest wall
beyond the fence is quite another field
we pass into it bearing sword and shield
determined that the enemy shall fall
no villain foeman gallops when we call
we're limited by all the tools we wield
sometimes the way of courage is to yield
the winner is the one who's on the ball
what bore our weight did so with undue mirth
our fear and pain drove us to be most rash
and now regret is all that we can feel
we rue the total of our little worth
discover that we have far less than cash
and no court's left to which we might appeal