Disclaimer: I wish I owned Legolas, but I don't.

Discription: What if, in the war for Middle Earth, everyone died, even the elves, and Legolas was the only one left alive? Just a short poem telling what he does. This might become a full fanfiction if I recieve some reviews saying that they want me to write it.

A/N: Please, please, please, please review!!! Also, read my other poems and review!!! Recieving reviews makes me happy!!! Making me happy means more fanfiction, which hopefully makes you happy!!!




The horn sounds,
the war is on.
Arrows fly,
killing, spilling.

Men and elves
fight together,
pushing back the forces.
The war rages.

A lone elf
stands in the night,
his bow taught,
arrow ready.

Waiting for one to rise
among the dead
and dying.
Nothing stirs.

The last survivor,
his only kin.
The elf and his bow,
done with the fight.

He wanders alone,
through the barren land,
among the dead.
The war is done.

Eternal his reign, the last.
No one left
to end his everlasting life,
but himself.

The shining metal
cold against his skin.
His time to die
has come.

The lone survivor of the war,
the elf known as Legolas.
By his own hands he died,
wielding the sword of destruction.

The last have fallen...