Not Until It's Over

By Talking Hawk

Travelling along foreign lands

Tripping, stumbling, and pushing along

I won't stop

Not until it's over

Your shuddering breath is the only thing I hear

Begging the smoky air to grant

Your weary limbs rest

I won't stop pulling you along,

Giving weary encouragement all the way,

Not until it's over

I think back on the things - the people - back home

Worryin' about us

The Gaffer, my brothers and sisters, Rosie. . .

Rosie. . .

No, I can't go back to her (not that she was ever mine to go back to

In the first place. . .)

Not until it's over

"It" is mostly the only thing I think about these days -

The end of the Quest,

The fulfillment of our duties,

The beginning of happiness again

You probably wonder, Mr. Frodo,

If I'll go off on my own

Once It's all over

Well, sir. . .

To change the meaning of "It" a bit,

"It" is also my life, my purpose:

So, Mr. Frodo,

When you ask me,

"Will you ever leave me, dear Sam?

Will you leave me be, when the Ring is no more?

If I should survive this thing,

What ever am I to do?"

I'll look up at you and say,

"Never will I leave you

Not until It's over."