Here I go, trying my hand at other forms of poetry!
Second-born of the Isle
Heir to the Throne,
Exiled to a far off land
Without ever knowing the truth.
Second-born of the Isle
He's afraid of heights
Yet he perches on a cliff,
As he listens to the dragons sing.
Second-born of the Isle
Bears the knowledge of who he is.
Too much pressure on his shoulders,
For a boy of just eleven years.
Second-born of the Isle
Runs from his Warden,
He's fleeing from responsibility-
and going to the worst of the worst.
Second-born of the Isle
Beaten almost to death.
He wishes for his big brother,
As he hears the Carriage Black.
Second-born of the Isle
Loaded onto a ship.
He's brought not to Throg-
A mercy? I think not.
Second-born of the Isle
Has lost all his hope.
A broken child among many
And the song he begins to sing.
Second-born of the Isle
Not quite gone.
Rescued by his uncle,
Much more than he was before.
Second-born of the Isle
Doesn't remember his name.
Hope is not yet lost,
As the Warden's job is to remember and remind.
Second-born of the Isle
Remembers at last.
Eyes, once a terrifying yellow,
Are now a brilliant blue.
This is…….wonderful!!!!!!!!! You deserve some cheesy chowder for that 🍲