The Lament of Hirgon’s Son

by Jul 6, 2007Poetry

My father went away today,
Red arrow in his hand.
Like Boromir the Brave he went
O’or the desolate land.

To fetch the King of Rohan,
And to bring him ere the host
Of Mordor arrives jeering,
And Sauron comes to boast

Of his long awaited victory,
His lordship of the world.
For before my Minas Tirith
His black standard is unfurled.

My father went two days ago;
I long for him today.
My mother saw the beacon lit.
War is not far away.

My father left three days ago,
Before the women left.
I wish now more than ever that
We were not king-bereft.

I see them in the distance now,
Orcs and haradrim.
To the gates of Minas Tirith,
Father come, our hope is dim.

Faramir was felled today,
By an evil dart.
"Killed at once" I heared men say.
"Pierced right through his heart."

Lord Denethor has gone quite mad,
And Mithrandir commands.
He tells the soldiers to stand fast
Against orc-infested lands.

My father left four weeks ago,
Before the seige began.
Those black men, orcs watch every road.
Rohan cannot come.

The lowest level is in flames.
The men will sing no more.
The like of what Fate placed us in
Has ne’er been seen before.

The men of Rohan came last night.
How? I do not know.
Dwarves will make us stronger gates;
Elves will make things grow.

A King returned to Gondor.
Elessar is his name.
Isildur’s heir of old is he;
All men will sing his fame.

All the sent have come returning
But Father will not return.
Now not e’en the king can replace
The man for whom I yearn.


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