Friday, the 13th

"Just renounce your God,"

. . . the heretic said,

"then I'll end this pain,

. . . and you shall be free."

I knew in my heart

. . . I'd rather be dead

than betray the Lord

. . . who died to save me.

In my mind I saw

. . . my true love, my wife,

and was not afraid

. . . to face my own death.

I said not a word

. . . though it meant my life,

but held my head high

. . . and took my last breath.

-------------------------

not all the crusading knights made it back home...

Author's Note: This poem was crafted in a form of my own creation, which allowed the prompt line to be used as written. The form is written in octaves, has a seldom used meter, and an even line rhymes scheme.

The meter, amphibracic dimeter catalectic, is purposely stilted and has 5 syllables, (tap, THUMP, tap, tap, THUMP). The rhyme pattern is [x a x b x a x b]. The formatting was difficult, since the even lines need to be indented, but the flow stayed true, and the scene played out. -- DG