Betrayal

'Pon the cliff he stood so proud,

bethinking glories in the days gone past.

Victories won with blades flashing hard,

smiting all who dared to waylay his path.

Riding with the valorous, more brothers than comrades,

honoring the mortals immortalised by their deeds.

Fair he was, to foes, broken and defeated,

winning over hearts with kindness befitting a king.

His foes vanquished and kingdoms conquered,

he dreamt of ballads sung to honor their deeds.

Thus stood he, lost in glories achieved,

looking over his lands stretched beyond mortal sight.

The hand laid on his shoulder, to a brother belonged.

Alas! T'was too late to know the purpose of the hand.

One hand fastening on his shoulder,

the other driving in the blade.

Grief overwhelmed him, driving away the pain,

As the blade pierced his heart ringing his death knell,

his eyes seeking answer, met with the betrayer's.

Regret he saw first, overcome by jealousy.

'O my brother!' said the King, 'may you be blessed and live a life long!

Remember though that jealousy is unworthy of a king to be.

I beseech to thee to leave it be, for a mighty heart befits a king.'

And then he fell down the cliff, plummeting down helplessly,

till he was but a speck of sand, lost in the dunes of eternity.