Jonathan

In the dawning
Will come the battle,
The last for
Our house, for
Our families, for
My father’s name
And position and
Rank and favor and
Crown, the crown
Already long lost.

In the night eve of death,
Across the campfire
I see his eyes, staring,
Filled with anger,
Stilled with hate.
He stares through
His madness at me,
The surrogate.
My treason is I
Loved my friend.

That day on
The hillside,
That day when
He slung the smooth
Stones,
That day when he held up
The giant’s head,
That day, my
Heart knitted
To his.

I knew then,
Just a boy,
I knew then my
Father’s fate.
I knew then my
Friend would
Be given, one day,
The crown my
Father intended for
My head.

We became men together,
Two beings, two minds,
One heart, one soul.
My father would not understand
What I did, what I said,
What I knew.
His anger with,
His fear of my friend
Was measured out
In fury to me.

After this night eve of death,
I will die
In the dawning,
Near my father but
Not next to him.