Spells of Sorceresses, Spells of Tokens

A poem dedicated to Boromir





As I like here

Dying in the arms of my king I think about the Token The Token that has caused my death

When I first saw this Token I thought of it as a gift A gift from the dark lord himself "Why not use this" I asked "against him"

I was told that no one could wield its power By a king in exile Then an elf stood tall and proud And told me that the Token must be destroyed

So there we were A company of nine Making our way to the land of darkness The king in exile sworn to protect the Token's barrier

I picked up the Token the barrier had dropped "Why fear such a small thing" I thought aloud I was told to return the Token So I return it back to the barrier

We went though the mountain Where we lost our leader The king in exile lead us on To the lady of the Wood

We leave the wood And the lady in it Who told me of my home and how I can help I am glad to leave for now I an find rest

I talk to the barrier Tell him to let me barrow the Token Now I'm under its spell

I am left alone to fight I am losing I have arrows in my body As I lie here dying in the arms of my king