(( Prompt: None. I just, ah, wanted to write a poem about the dwarves. Disclaimer: I am obviously not affiliated in any way with the Tolkien estate. I just like writing~ Obligatory plea for feedback: Please review! As someone who's been around for a while myself, I know it only takes a few moments to leave a note after reading and it means a lot. Improvements can always be made, after all!
With that said, please enjoy. ))
We went wandering, westwards roaming,
homeless, hearth-less, and heart-weary,
bound by blood and broken bodies,
an echo of our former glory.
Can you hear the children crying?
Do you see my people dying?
Nightly now we kneel in prayer
but work nor answers find we there.
We went wandering, westwards roaming,
silver stars in our eyes gleaming.
Never did we cease our dreaming
of stolen gold and former glory.
Do not think us broken, battered,
the line of Durin at last shattered.
Thorin's faithful will never fail him.
Whatever comes, we will prevail, and
never will we cease our dreaming.
Never will we cease our singing
'til all we lost that fateful evening
and all the gold and silver gleaming
returns to us at last.