A/N This is (obviously) about Denethor's despair-it's also my first LOTR fic! EEE!
Disclaimer:(me no own)
Come Mithrandir, come too late,
To hinder me with your hope of light;
Already we burn in blazing fate,
A fitting end in the coming Night!
You hope in Halflings, witless fool!
In faithless Rohan riding forth,
So face the Witch King, hopeless duel;
There is no King in the crownless North.
Review? Please?