What a fool I was.

As I stand tall in strength,
Over the battered body of the Judge,
I make my demand of him,
“Know your place.”
He whimpers in reply.
Only then do I see,
How weak he really was;
How fragile his mind,
How frail his hands.
I kneel over him,
And begin to bind his wounds.

The threat has passed,
The victory has been won.
Should he again rise above his station,
I know I have it in me to defeat him.
Besides,
The power he wielded,
Was power bestowed,
By my own hand.

I lift him from where he lies,
And carry him home.
Placing him in a fresh bed,
I offer him water;
And with a damp rag,
I wipe our face, saying,
“I’m sorry.”

Before, I spoke harshly of him.
I defamed him to my colleagues,
I slandered him to my friends;
But I’ll need him for what comes.
Once, I considered him my greatest enemy,
Now I will make of him a close companion;
A foil for my pride.
His expertise will be to us a profit,
And I will bestow upon him a new name:
Counselor.

There’s a knock at the door of this house,
But I have no need to answer,
For I know who it is who knocks,
And he will wait for me.