Faramir in the Garden

- Primula
These mossy walls, their stones are old.
More open lands you love, perhaps.
Here, walk beside me. You look cold;
Around your shoulders, please, draw this wrap.

Do you remember Grey Mithrandir?
With the learned I have studied.
Ah, for his wisdom! If it were mine,
Would my hands have stayed unbloodied?

Could I find in books salvation?
Do not believe all wisdom's arms;
I lift my sword up for my nation,
But learning deflects deeper harms.

Deeper harms with wounds that linger.
If hearts are strong, bodies will heal.
You and I, we know they mingle,
We know despair's sword, sharp and real.

My father loved my elder brother,
When I was small I saw his smile.
He sometimes even smiled for others,
But not for me, his younger child.

My brother taken from his side,
My father's sharpness cut my heart.
Though I had thought to stem that tide,
To harden feelings, set apart...

Defenses he always perceived,
Relentless force, his comments pierced.
Would he have brought me to my knees?
I tried to please; he remained fierce.

Oh father, why was there no blessing?
Why did you turn your face from me?
If I gave my life, never resting
Would my brother's smile be given me?

Mithrandir told me father loved me,
That he would show it nigh his end,
Why did his approval drive me
To his will, my own to bend?

Now he lays in ash, no longer
Can I reach him. But his voice...
I  remember it grew stronger
After he had made his choice.

Fragments I remember, dry wood...
Smoke-scent, soft oil. Then the flames...
And somewhere in that fire, I could
Hear my father scream my name.

Tangled thoughts and tangled feelings,
Through my fevered mind they've wandered.
Dire events - I still am reeling,
Come, walk with me, and let me ponder.

These are dark times, do not mind me;
My words stumble without a grace.
Thank you for your listening silence,
The quiet moonlight on your face.


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