The King Under The Mountain~
Tell the fjords and villages,
The mighty Elven king,
Tell the woods and river marsh,
And bid your choirs sing,
Tell the earth, the sky, the sun,
The mountain and the glen,
Tell the white horses upon Durin's hill,
And noble fisher men,
The Lord of Silver Fountains,
The King of Carven Stone,
The King Beneath the Mountain,
Is come into his own,
The feet that weary wandered,
The homeless now come home,
Thorin, Fili, and young Kili,
No more shall they roam,
Tell the Thrush when he knocks,
He may now use the other door,
For the king is come into his own,
There is no need for War,
The Gates are down, the walls are gone,
No barricades nor bars,
The king has come again from hills,
And wilderlands afar,
The troubled king was spirit sick,
He is forgiven now,
And within every shadow's thick
And under every bough,
Upon every high tree and every high hill,
And the oak in Bilbo's garden,
There in the water,the air, the wind,
Lingers the spirit of Thorin,
Yea, the tree is his shield and memory,
The outline of his majesty,
The Good Thief remembers...
Tauriel ,Tauriel, why do you weep?
For brave young Kili is merely asleep!
Under the halls of stone!
There in the halls of his fathers, under the mountain throne,
Forever young, and brave, and alive,
Though in another world,
Say not that he has died,
Tell Dis not to mourn,
Look to the heavens, Tauriel,
The rune stone vow he keeps,
In the white light there, where the earth falls away,
He lingers, walking in the cool of the day,
He is waiting,...
Or brave but reckless, foolish, a child!,
O ,Tauriel, wandering in the wild,
Sometimes at dawn you hear them,
Kili and Fili his brother, always there with him,
Wandering over the green,
They are young for eternity!
Say not death,but passage to immortality!
Say not that all came to darkness,but that they rose to light,
If there is darkness, they are yet stars to your night!
Tauriel ,exile, wandering far,
Come by Bilbo's garden,
Lay down now, resting in the shade,
Of the spirit of Thorin,
Black- eyed susans sway in the night,
These are the eyes of Kili,
Buttercups golden like the fair head,
Of the young prince Fili,
These but their colors in the world,
The great oak tree an Oakenshield,
That the night wind howls against,
Azog ever railing,
But his defiling days are done with now,
Pay no heed to his wailing,
Bilbo sees you in the dark,
And joins you there under his shadow,
Under his spirit, under his voice,
There remains the vigorous spark,
The valor of his final choice,
There is his power, do not weep,
The sons of Durin are merely asleep,
And risen on wings, that eagles envy,
If heaviness now, his power was heavy...
So sit in silence, in the Good Thief's garden,
Rest your bones, in the spirit of Thorin,
There lingers the mischief of Fili and Kili,
There spirits rough- housing, flowers to the wind,
Voices in the night, song birds call out to them,
Invisible now, invisible only...