by Jun 25, 2005Poetry

Wandering these dark lands,
Seeing the shadow grow,
Watching evil stretch his hands
Toward the water’s flow.

I cannot stay and gaze
At destruction he has wrought.
I must leave this place,
Though stay I surely ought.

The trees grow sick and wither,
Their leaves now die and fall.
Water runs no more hither
Past where the trees grew tall.

Flowers will blossom no more,
Poisoned by his hate.
If I leave not for Valinor,
I shall share their fate.

They say they’ve found an heir
To sit on Gondor’s throne,
But ere he can rule there
He has much to overcome.

If fate had only been kinder,
I might have lingered on.
But she has not been tender
And so I travel yon.


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