Ringbearer’s Thoughts – A poem about Frodo’s thoughts during the FOTR

by Apr 19, 2002Poetry

Hello to the Mountains; farewell to the Shire!
Goodbye to the woodlands; hello to the sea!
For I’m setting out on a great big adventure,
An adventure indeed much too great for me.
So come now my Sam, my Merry, and Pippin,
Come now my friends of Hobbiton lore;
For I must now bear this terrible burden.
Must flee all too quickly to Mordor.

I sit at an inn in the country of Bree,
That man who’s called “Strider” is staring at me.
He knows of my mission, he guesses my mind.
For to him I look and a friend there I find.
Fighting the Ring-Wraiths on Weather Top hill,
I’m wounded, I’m stabbed, alive only by will.
And now I lay dying, on this flight to the Ford;
Queen Arwen behind me is drawing her sword.

Awaking upon a warm, sunlit scene,
In Rivendell, land that forever stays green.
The Council is called, my fate is decided,
To carry the Ring while my mind’s still divided.
So now we set out a party of nine,
Companions so dear, these best friends of mine.
Over the mountains or into the mines,
All is against us, I see by the signs.

Moria we find is an old dusty tomb;
Drums in the dark tell us of our doom.
We’re running away from the tomb of Lord Balin,
Gandalf the Grey into darkness has fallen.
The Balrog has taken him into the deep;
There’s no time for crying, no time to weep.
Flee now we must into Lothlorien Land,
To see the White Lady, a ring on her hand.

I’m given a gift, a phial so bright;
A guide in the land that forever is night.
Boats are given us, of light Elven grey.
Now out of Lothlorien we are rowing away.
Anduin flowing so swift and so fair,
But trouble is coming, I feel in the air.
We stop near the feet of the Great Kings of old.
Boromir is watching, his eyes have turned cold.

A turn of the worst, betrayed by a friend;
If such fate will follow, then this is the end.
I must flee soon, my party is breaking.
If I don’t go now my Ring they’ll be taking.
I’m going to Mordor, and I’m going alone.
I’ll struggle, not fail! I’ll be on my own.
Now I’m in the boat, I’m rowing away;
I worry for Sam because he must stay.

He’s calling my name from the western shore,
“Master, dear Master!” I can take it no more.
He’s wading too far, into the deep waters.
I long for a friend; my heart teeter-totters.
He made a promise to Gandalf the Wise;
That oath goes too deep, there’s no compromise.
I tell him again that he should stay;
But, “O very well, we’re off and away!”

-Allie* & Sage* Elven-Halves

copywright 2002


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