A/N: Just a little poem about the queen with the ten cats
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all.
Queen Berúthiel
Far away and long ago
Lay a woman at ship's prow
Thin and pale, weak and sore
Shoulders hunched with what she bore
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Cursed was she with silent grief
Cursed with fear that tortured sleep
Cursed regret of times long gone
Cursed for deeds that she had done
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Woven lies and webs of hate
Palace court to city gate
All she knew and all she heard
Scandal, rumor, all she learned
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Cats she used to search, to spy
Ten she had to nose and pry
Agents dark and sly as night
All were black, except one white
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Through the city streets they crept
Black ones going right and left
Listening softly, peeking in
White one watching, stalking them
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Long did she keep spying on
Long did she keep doing wrong
She knew not her end was near
She knew not her end was here
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Late she saw her wickedness
Late, her case now pitiless
Late, cried she as she sailed away
Banned forever and a day
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Lost her crown, her love, her life
Loss now cut her like a knife
Blade that slowly sliced her heart
Spirit whittled, hope now dark
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Past all Gondor, past the land
Past the South and all its sand
Past the Umbar, to the sea
To the place her grave would be
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One by one her cats all died
She alone was left to sigh
She alone was left towail
The fate of Queen Berúthiel
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