His sword shone brightly,
as I drew my own.
May God forgive me.
I had never fought one, so bold, and so knightly
who held the throne.
His sword shone brightly
I looked upon him contritely.
Greed, jealousy, lust for power twisted through me, ingrown.
May God forgive me.
Our duel had been decided, and when the sun had begun to set, he
fell to the floor, and left me alone.
His sword shone brightly
The years have made me frail, as now I am sixty.
But my deeds, I will forever bemoan.
May God forgive me
Now I hardly have honor, forfeit, as it is rightly.
How I miss my dear brother, the only friend I have known.
His sword shone brightly.
May God forgive me.
Jared T. Wilkerson is a freshman at UVU, completing his associate's with an interest in English. He is a prose editor by day, writer by night. Despite his busy schedule, he likes to study physics and read fiction.