The Dark Hour Before Dawn - Nine Companions 2 - Pippin

The lands are hard and cruel as steel,
When seen in the black of the night,
But in the dark hour before the dawn,
I anticipate the light,

I turn to see the yonder mountains,
Pale shadows in the west,
The faintest glimmer shines down on them,
The moon has gone to rest,

As soft as a fairy floating down from the stars,
Golden color spills oe'r the land,
A light barely seen shines down on my face,
As soft as waves upon the sand,

I turn my eyes to gaze all around,
At the softly sleeping world,
But I am drawn back to gaze unto the west,
Where the greatest painting is unfurled,

The light slips over the shimmering peaks,
And sweeps its way across the plains,
It begins to fill the world with a quiet peace,
Like a soft Springtime rain,

I throw my head back and sing to the morning,
I close my eyes and listen to the wind,
I feel the sun's rays as I stand here in silence,
Night has come to an end,

I come back to my senses and the real world,
Covered in a shadowy haze,
I stand up to see the dark lands around me,
And eastward my unwilling eyes gaze,

I wish to return to the lands of my dreams,
To see the shining mountains once more,
But I know such wishes are all in vain,
For above me the sun does not soar,

I sense a shadow passing overhead,
And suddenly feel a cold stab of fear,
I cower on the ground as I close my eyes,
And, silently, down rolls a tear.

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