The Fall of Minas Ithil - ...and the rise of Minas Morgul
As the wind blows the leaves depart
As the day passes, pass the years
And the world darkens with its art.
The shadow falls, the light's demise
Now falters, yet it will not hold for long.
A clouds of mist keeps in disguise
The daylight's fading, mourning song.
All dims as years of future become past
Thunder rolls upon once fresh green fields
The light above long will not last
Years pass, and light to darkness yeilds.
Nothing is left of a once thriving land
Nothing but the dark and the cold
All those who are here falter and stand
But none are faithful and bold.