Disclaimer: Although I love Star Wars, that doesn't mean I don't own Star Wars. Although I'm a fan of money, that doesn't mean I'm making money off this story.

A/N: Originally completed on September 11, 2010. Oh, the unending struggle to write poetry that flows like water. How'd I do? Read 'n' review! Look, it's a rhyme! I do it all the time!

Rated K+ for mention of war/blood.

"The Chosen One"

That fateful day, my Master died.

And as my heart was rent inside,

He looked into my eyes and sighed,

"He is the Chosen One."

So I became a Jedi Knight.

Perhaps the Council lacked foresight

When they bequeathed to me the right

To train the Chosen One.

I took the job determinedly

(And just a bit defiantly),

For Qui-Gon placed his faith in me

To train the Chosen One.

I promised Anakin that he

A Jedi Knight would one day be.

That promise was not made lightly,

To him, the Chosen One.

I showed him how to calm his mind

And how to leave the world behind,

With all its ties and loves that bind:

I taught the Chosen One.

He trained with me for quite awhile.

My Padawan oft made me smile,

And other Masters said, meanwhile,

"He is the Chosen One."

Was power going to his head?

The darkness I would ever dread.

I worried for him when they said,

"He is the Chosen One."

But Anakin worked faithfully,

Obedient and chaste (mostly),

With loyalty and love for me—

My boy, the Chosen One.

A normal Jedi, not was he.

Emotions? He would let them free.

To watch him, I would think that he

Might be the Chosen One.

By midichlorians conceived,

Of mother, planet, home, bereaved?

Eventually, I, too, believed

He was the Chosen One.

One day, he came to me, eyes wide.

"I am a Jedi Knight!" he cried.

I thought my heart would burst with pride

For him, the Chosen One.

We fought as brothers in the fight

Advancing justice, doing right.

And none could stand against our might,

I and the Chosen One.

The war for months raged on and on,

The truths the Jedi fought for, gone.

We failed to see the lies, the wrong,

I and the Chosen One.

Yet still the war continued, raged.

And Anakin began to change,

His bearing dark, his actions strange—

A different Chosen One.

He digressed from the Jedi path,

Became a part of the bloodbath,

And chose the darkness, chose the wrath:

A fallen Chosen One.

Now he was lost—in truth, insane.

My heart was filled with grief and pain.

I screamed at him, but screamed in vain,

"You were the Chosen One!"

The war was ended; all was lost.

The sacrifices and the cost

Vanished amid the Holocaust

Of the false Chosen One.

A son is all that's left behind:

A single ray of hope to shine.

The question permeates my mind . . .

Is he the Chosen One?