The last ruling Steward

He lost all hope,
Before his end,
And fell before the storm,
And fires and ash should take his bones,
Begotten and forlorn.

Naked he stood,
Before the eye,
Before the fires of hell,
And though his madness play'd his part
To death his son he did sell.

O Denethor,
Thou did denounce
The coming of the king,
And thy life was spent in greed and hope:
The salvation of the Ring.

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