The world was dark, no longer free
Of evil and what should not be.
Forces were gathered, hate was wrought,
And yet, still hope was vainly sought.
No harp now rung, but trumpets sound;
The sons of Fëanor were bound
To overthrow the Enemy.
The Elves against Morgoth the Foe,
Now fought a battle they did know
Would end in sorrow, and in pain;
A vast amount then would be slain.
For freedom from His tyranny
They fought; and for the unity
Of all against the Foe Morgoth.
By honor bound they marched ahead.
So tall and fair; they strode with dread
Of many orcs and Balrogs great
Who all had multiplied, of late.
Now swords unsheathed there glimmering,
And helms of gold there shimmering
And then they were seen by the Foe.
Great was His fury, and his wrath;
He sent a force to break their path.
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword
Were then sent forth by the Dark Lord.
The clash of swords from either side;
There many fell, there many died.
Then from the rear there came a call
New forces came then through the wall
To help against the Enemy.
New hope has come, new banners flown,
And all their power and might was shown.
The Elvish forces, then so strong;
It seemed that nothing could go wrong.
Alas! Disloyalty there was
Among the army then because
Of evil planted within them
By Morgoth who possessed the gems.
The traitors then were swiftly slain.
Revealed was the evil plot;
They did not seek what they had sought.
For promised them was wealth and power
If they had slain the host that hour.
But wayward went their evil plan.
And emptied then from caverns deep,
They came to slaughter, and to reap.
The Balrogs then found the High King
Surrounded him with evil things.
Bravely fought Fingon, but too strong
Were they; they wrapped ’round him a thong
Of fire that lashed him to the ground.
His blood and mire they beat and pound
and left the remains for carrion.
Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Tears Unnumbered.
From then on the memory slumbered,
For song nor tale can ever contain
The sorrow from that battle plain.
Now some great warriors are no more.
But now is lost from all the lore:
Warriors, lords, and mighty kings
Of them now only harpers sing
The last whose realms were great and free
In this far land beyond the Sea.
Now they go west, to Valinor,
Where life goes on forevermore;
And evil things do not