The Battle
By Sarah Ervin
The clash of metal upon metal,
The clink of swords, the rain of arrows,
There was war among the nettles.
The cries of pain, the shouts of captains,
Clearly the battle lines were settled.
The evil was dark, the enemy thick,
Slashing, stabbing, breaking,
Their advance was a horrid trick.
They slew the brave and faithful,
The chances were slim, hope was fading quick.
High upon a hill the good fought,
Armor shining stars, fair standards high,
"Retreat" was not formed in their thoughts,
Handsome faces were stern with courage,
Yet few they were, surrounded and caught.
An Elven prince fought by his father's side,
His shoulder and side were rent,
Sword was stained with black, bow well tried,
Clothing once blue as his eyes, was now red,
With experience he faced the dark tide.
Suddenly beside him there was heard a cry,
Soft, yet loud, it rang in his pointed ears,
Then the Elven King fell with a final sigh,
The Prince took charge of his people through his tears,
Led them after watching his immortal father die.
"To me Eldar! To me!" he called
His great horn he sounded,
The scattered came to make a wall,
His bright banner he unfurled,
A last charge he led, he did not stall.
There, in his hour of need,
Something unexpected was heard,
Accompanied by the hoofs of many steeds,
It was the answering horn of his fellow lord.
A signal he sent, knowing his friend would heed.
From thence the battle did not last long,
Fiercely all the Eldar fought,
With valor the Elves righted the wrong,
Peace was restored to dear Beleriand,
And this tale lives on in many songs.