Powerful. - A little poem about Gandalf. Before and after he fell into shadow
His hat was pointy and his cloak was grey
His eyes twinkled with life
A face etched in happiness and strife
One day he fell into shadow
He went were the Company could not go.
Tears were wept long and hard
For this wonder who traveld with them far.
How could they go on?
Without this man that had been in song?
Gandalf the grey was dead.
Without him, they just fled.
Far beneath the earth,
His eyes were empty of mirth
He defeated his foes
but no one knew where he would go.
He fell into deep sleep
Far above where his friends had begun to weep
He fell out of memory and time
His friends didn't know he was becoming more sublime
He was being sent back
To get this mission on track
He needed to finish what he had been sent for
To defeat the enemy of Mordor
One day he arrived back,
His friends knew him not, for his cloak he lacked.
He showed his old face to his friends
and they knew they haven't reached the end.
His cloak was white and not grey
but his eyes still shone that day
The tears wept went to joy instead of sorrowful
because Gandalf had become more powerful.