- Primula

This one is a two-in-one piece - you may read it as a whole, then read it again with only the shorter lines.

My Lord
Faramir lies feverish, soaked with fuel
He burns
With fever, calls for his father -
A son
Longing for his father's approval, but on whom
God had mercy,
Bestowing him with great gifts of
His own.
My guard's honor and duty rage in my
Warring between orders and knowing
His flesh
Is almost sacred, protected at all cost.
A consuming
Fear, a choice that is no choice;
That our own should be
Us asunder. What is loyalty?
The mind
Observes the letter of the law but
The soul
Cleaves to what is right.
From this what can I do?
My blade, in his service
And guarding in the same blow.