The mist of early morning…creeps across the grass…
Upon the delicate twigs, the morning dew…
Then comes the calls from the woodlands… the creatures pass,
And sunlight strikes the circles of the city cleanly through…
Look! There upon the mountain, all the glory of the faded world…
Sleep now hero's of old… in dreams of polished brass…
Where kings of Minas Tirith stood, where roots of the white tree curled,
Andships rippled on the sea like colored glass…
Ask the mountains in the distance that loomed with such presence,
Where has the wizard gone?
And where lies the key…
That ring ruled by none, that called the Lord Sauron…
deep, in the mountains…
The forest will not tell you where the elves have fled…
The hills no more the dwarfs conceal….
Gone are the horses that the Rohan's bred…
Faded, the shires where the hobbits dwelled, as if in a world unreal…
Until at last your dreams retrace
The paths, your memories would erase, and let them lead you where they may…
Beyond the comfort of the sun, and into places dark and cold…
Hidden… where the waters black
Lap the sides of their tombs of old, There they sleep,
Sleep the only sleep they can… but they will hear you,
Mortal man,
And if you ask of them to tell,
How they fought, and how they fell…
You will hear their Tale,
You'd best to listen well.
Long we lived, in this world you seek…
Long we fought within its wars…
In battles both of our own making, and others not ours…
Within the shadows of Mordor's sky…
Upon the rolling Pellanor fields…
Above the seven circled city…
Under moon and sun…
We transversed all mortal lands…
We hunted, for the One…
Faded is our middle earth, into a land of men…
…return the days of hidden lore, bring us to life again…