Binyamin

A son of my pain
Though he never shed a tear.
An orphan at birth
Though his father breathed near.

Scorned by his brothers
For he was his mother’s.
Head on his shoulders high
A condemned portion to occupy. 

Scarred from war.
A sole survivor, a Saul survivor.
Bearer of bad news, of loss
Of grief, nameless, bearing the cost.

The swords of his brothers decapitate
Mauls, severs, nearly annihilate.
A hill, a palace, a king, a name.
He rules his brothers but the crown is lame.

A wounded wolf replaced by a lion
Subsumed by a lion.
Heroes in a foreign land, forgotten at home.
From the highest points, his mother’s tears heard from.

A new name for the left-handed.
No longer a son of pain.
A son of strength. A son of might.
Binyamin, a son of right.