In our youth,
we three were heroes,
sworn brothers —
what though our
arms won you a land to rule?
What did you fear then —
that you were
led so easily
to kill your
general
and his reputation too?
His name is silent.
Minutia_R requested "Nirvana in Fire, Marquis Yan, honor and reputation," and that day's NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a shadorna or a fibonacci poem, so I went with five shadorna stanzas (line syllable lengths: 3/5/3/3/7/5).
Imported from Archive of Our Own. Original work id: 30543765.