I see me as a watchman on a high tower.
I have my binoculars and am being a lookout. The tower takes a low blow and bends over. But, I stay in the crow’s nest, and it pops back up.
The enemy surrounds it, and shoots arrows – flaming arrows at it. But, heaven sends the rain, a monsoon even.
The enemy tries to dig its foundations out, but a mudslide comes from the mountains and fills the gap.
Nothing that the enemy tries to do shall prosper.
The tower remains.