Barahir's fall.
The city of Dorthonion burned in spoil.
The people were in great toil
Barahir who would not forsake the land
With his sword in hand
Prepared to fight one last time
The people were slain without remorse,
An enemy driven with nought but force!
Barahir fought for his pride,
But in his plight, he died.
And Dorthonion was lost.
The city burned and fell,
And no one was there to dwell.
All children there in were gone,
None escaped from Dorthonion,
And the land fell under shadow.
His body was left upon the ground,
Nether buried or drowned.
The ring upon his finger,
Was all that would linger,
From the lost land of Dorthonion.
J.k.Cornah 2004
The city of Dorthonion burned in spoil.
The people were in great toil
Barahir who would not forsake the land
With his sword in hand
Prepared to fight one last time
The people were slain without remorse,
An enemy driven with nought but force!
Barahir fought for his pride,
But in his plight, he died.
And Dorthonion was lost.
The city burned and fell,
And no one was there to dwell.
All children there in were gone,
None escaped from Dorthonion,
And the land fell under shadow.
His body was left upon the ground,
Nether buried or drowned.
The ring upon his finger,
Was all that would linger,
From the lost land of Dorthonion.
J.k.Cornah 2004