Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They all belong to J.R.R.
Tolkien etc.
Summary: A poem about Sam's courage and inner strength during and after his
fight with Shelob. A/N: angst, no slash.
Author Notes: This is my first attempt at LOTR poetry. So don't be too
harsh. This poem was one of those 'waking up at four in the morning and
feeling inspired to write' things and instead of writing another chapter
for my fanfic, I felt compelled to write this.
Title:
The Sparkle of a Disappearing Moon
She looked upon the stout hobbit before her, her eyes gleaming with delight
For she was a beautiful and terrible creature that had never lost a fight
She had fought Orc chieftains, Elven warriors, and Kings of men
And even against these great and mighty fighters she was always sure to win
But this small creature was not as he seemed
For in his soul there was a burning fury that none could have deemed
With an impassioned cry the hobbit attacked with his sword
Elven metal met flesh as poison from her putrid body was poured
Her conceit soon turned to an unmitigated malice
As this miserable creature knocked her off of her prideful palace
With a swift move she thrust herself down upon him to kill
But no such action could break this hobbit's steadfast will
It was her cruel resolve that drove her body downwards onto his blade
And with her anguish of defeat it was there that she was unmade
She dragged her beaten and damaged body in retreat
All the while knowing that she would never taste her prey's sweet meat
The weary warrior laid down by his master's chest
With his sense reeling and his tired body begging for rest
He called to his beloved master in vain
Noting with fear that his master did not stir from where he had lain
His hand reached forth and touched his master's cold head
Through darkening despair he realized that his dear master was not alive,
but dead
He laid down and cried bitterly in his ever-present sorrow
Knowing not if his heart and soul could make it through tomorrow
A new strength began to rise in him
As the choking shadows around him slowly began to dim
A bittersweet hope swirled in him, like the sparkle of a disappearing moon
He knew that he must complete the quest and bring the ring to the Cracks of
Doom
It is in this hobbit's heart where his courage and strength comes from
And like after every fall of night, a new horizon is destined to come
~*The End*~
Tolkien etc.
Summary: A poem about Sam's courage and inner strength during and after his
fight with Shelob. A/N: angst, no slash.
Author Notes: This is my first attempt at LOTR poetry. So don't be too
harsh. This poem was one of those 'waking up at four in the morning and
feeling inspired to write' things and instead of writing another chapter
for my fanfic, I felt compelled to write this.
Title:
The Sparkle of a Disappearing Moon
She looked upon the stout hobbit before her, her eyes gleaming with delight
For she was a beautiful and terrible creature that had never lost a fight
She had fought Orc chieftains, Elven warriors, and Kings of men
And even against these great and mighty fighters she was always sure to win
But this small creature was not as he seemed
For in his soul there was a burning fury that none could have deemed
With an impassioned cry the hobbit attacked with his sword
Elven metal met flesh as poison from her putrid body was poured
Her conceit soon turned to an unmitigated malice
As this miserable creature knocked her off of her prideful palace
With a swift move she thrust herself down upon him to kill
But no such action could break this hobbit's steadfast will
It was her cruel resolve that drove her body downwards onto his blade
And with her anguish of defeat it was there that she was unmade
She dragged her beaten and damaged body in retreat
All the while knowing that she would never taste her prey's sweet meat
The weary warrior laid down by his master's chest
With his sense reeling and his tired body begging for rest
He called to his beloved master in vain
Noting with fear that his master did not stir from where he had lain
His hand reached forth and touched his master's cold head
Through darkening despair he realized that his dear master was not alive,
but dead
He laid down and cried bitterly in his ever-present sorrow
Knowing not if his heart and soul could make it through tomorrow
A new strength began to rise in him
As the choking shadows around him slowly began to dim
A bittersweet hope swirled in him, like the sparkle of a disappearing moon
He knew that he must complete the quest and bring the ring to the Cracks of
Doom
It is in this hobbit's heart where his courage and strength comes from
And like after every fall of night, a new horizon is destined to come
~*The End*~