The woman’s smile, so bitter cold,
Within it no glad stories told.
An empty heart, a touch so cold,
Her fragile hands too icy to hold.
And yet, her head held high each passing day,
Her spirit never faltering or led astray.
She would not let them get her down,
Her pride like a blossoming flower, in a field so abound
With the hidden truths, and the lies so blunt,
The flower was but a runt.
Yet there it was, through winter and spring,
It did not wither for anything.
She feared not death, nor pain, nor shadow,
But a cage, locking her away from field and meadow.
And so she fought, not for love and honor,
Nor for truth, or a waving banner.
She fought for her heart, forever free in the field,
The cold and quiet Rohan maiden of the Shield.
The dead marhes through the eyes of a child who witnessed it. Though it may be your initial reponse, please keep in mind that it is not based off any real characture from Lord of the Rings. I made this one all up. Please comment.