Of Moria and Mithrandir – An orginal poem by Obadiah

by Jun 5, 2000Poetry


Ill it seemed that dark day,

When faced with no better way,

Nine walkers waited grim and glum,

To enter mighty Khazad-dum.

Led by the wisely Mithrandir,

Were Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir,

Gimli was with them too,

With Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo.

Now Mithrandir racked his mind,

For some great lore, that he might find

The command to the doors of old,

And pass into the depths so cold.

At last the wizard stood and laughed.

He spoke “friend” and could pass.

The ancient doors did open wide,

To invite the guests inside.

But as they moved towards the door,

Something did stir on the lake floor.

A vile beast from days long past.

It slithered forth and grabbed Frodo fast.

His screams were loud and long and shrill.

It seemed his quest would come to nil.

His friends did rush right to his side,

Their blades bit into the beasts hide.

Inside the door they pushed their friend,

They’d saved him from a watery end.

And behind them the doors slammed closed,

It was darker now than they’d supposed.

And now alone, nine stood in fear,

They all felt dread, even Mithrandir.

But follow the wizard the others would,

That he might lead them to the Golden Wood.

His staff lighting the darkened shaft,

The nine now quietly did pass,

Into the bowels of the mountain great,

In vain hope of finding the East-gate.

They found their way to a great hall,

Where one day past, dwarves did fall,

In battle with an orcish hoard,

In vain to save Balin, their lord.

The nine now stood in quiet grief,

This news, it seemed beyond belief.

But drums now echoed through the halls,

What evil now came to war?

Brave Boromir and Aragorn,

Sealed the doors into the halls.

Orcs screamed in one great voice,

The nine must flee, no other choice.

They fled down a mighty stair,

In wanton hope that somewhere there,

They might escape the vile pack,

And leave dreaded Moria at their backs.

And so at last they saw the gate,

Across a bridge, then to escape.

But as they crossed to reach the dawn,

A balrog came, Morgoth’s spawn.

Mithrandir called to the others, “Fly!”

For he alone had the power to try,

To oppose the beast and tempt his fate,

And come at last, safely through the gate.

He stood and raised his mighty staff,

And called to it “You shall not pass!”

Then striking the bridge, he gave a yell,

The bridge gave way, the balrog fell.

It fell into the void beneath,

But wrapped its whip round the wizard’s feet.

He slipped and plunged into the deep,

The others looked on and could only weep.

They passed the gate into the light,

And sorrow overcame their flight.

For so it was on that foul day,

They saw the last of Gandalf the Grey.


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