Pride of Gondor

by Jun 10, 2004Poetry

When the eldest son is lost
And the younger son survives,
Woe be to the father,
Who attempts to take more lives.

While the battle rages on
Outside the castle walls,
Ignoring the pain of the younger,
Father says, “Duty calls.”

“You’ll never be your brother,
So bold nor so brave.
Prove your worth to me.
Ride out to your grave!”

Then onward rides the younger,
His noble head held high.
He’ll prove wrong his father’s pride,
Even if he has to die.

Fallen in battle, yet
Still hanging on,
His father sees him
And believes he is gone.

“I can take no more!
I have nothing to give.
I will end my life.
I have no reason to live.”

In anguish he orders,
“Build a funeral pyre!”
Then throws himself and the younger
Upon the raging fire.

But life, still faintly beats
Within the least one’s heart.
“He still lives!” cries a friend,
With a frantic start.

With help from a friend,
Gandalf the White,
They save the wounded son.
All is now made right.

A new Steward will rise
From the ashes of old.
He is not a minor child.
He is brave. He is bold.

Though the favored son was lost,
And the father lives no more,
The least son, Faramir, now
Keeps watch over Gondor.


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