A Fellowship Born - One fine sunny morn, a march to Hell born.

On a fine sunny morn
a dark quest was born.
Set out from Rivendell,
to march into hell.
A party of nine
set out at that time.
Journeying afar,
under sunlight and star.
A few were lost,
as their battle was fought.
In Moria 'twas Gandalf,
a leader and friend,
Then went Borimir of Gondor
to a bittersweet end.
Forever companions,
'till the end of their days,
The nine now divided,
and gone different ways.
The collective Fellowship
has now been broken.
But a bond remains still
forever in heart as a token.
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