Helm's Deep
By J. Doe
Disclaimer: Er…To tell you the truth, I'm normally a Harry Potter fanfiction writer, so do I need a disclaimer here? Let me know, would you?
A/N: Ah, author's notes. Okay…this is my first poem. Well, actually it's my second, but the first was so horrible that I didn't bother publishing…but anyway, it's dedicated to the battle of Helm's Deep (obviously), in the second book of the LOTR. Tell me what you think, would you? And also tell me whether I need a disclaimer or not, as I've said above.
And apologies if I refer to someone (like "the leader") and you have no clue who I'm talking about. BTW, "the leader" often refers to Aragorn. I hope you can deduce the others.
Oh, and just one more thing (sorry to bother). You'll see couplets every six stanzas or so. This idea was – er – "borrowed" from a poem called Angelo Cadere, which is the only work under my favorite stories section. (I just think it's really brilliant). So, from hence forth, I disclaim that concept of using couplets and give it all to Nemesis (I think that's the name of the author).
The elves and men paused to meet doom
And stood silently joined as one.
They stayed below the fading moon,
Before the battle had begun.
On the stretched horizon of night
Appeared those who had come to clash.
Their blazing lanterns glowing white
Like a moving bonfire flash.
And so doubt crept in and clouded
The proud host's valiant mind and heart.
Their noble blood deep fear hounded
Though the battle had yet to start.
Quietly still they stood steadfast
In spite of the force they could see.
They froze their limbs to try to last
For there was nowhere left to flee.
The enemy sustained approach,
Drawing nearer by each slow breath.
The archers set and drew their bows
With nimble fingers, quick and deft.
A harsh rumble from heaven's doors
Emerged forth from the black-gray clouds.
The heavy rain began to pour
And shadow sky swarmed deep of shrouds.
And so before the first voice can cry,
A silver flash strikes through the sky.
The great multitude then did stop
At a distance from the guarded walls.
Roars issued from their lips that rot
And echoed their cruel signal calls.
A single arrow left in blur
And through the tear-filled air it tore.
It pierced through an orc's black armor
Quickly cutting to icy core.
The victim orc then slowly fell,
Thus cold anger turned to hate.
The masses ran and charged with yells;
To pacify was far too late.
The leaders gave hasty order
And more agile shots sprung out.
Dead dropped the beasts of distant Mordor,
Ever louder grew their shrieks and shouts.
The orc army then lastly reached
The fortress that hath aged gray.
And both opposing leaders breathed,
"Ladders! summoning this way!"
The dingy, shielded orcs came meeting
To go and start up to the fight.
Elven swords emerged unsheathing
To shimmer brightly in moonlight.
With tempers rising from the cool,
Fiery Mars prepares the duel.
The first stroke then did slash a foe
And ripped an orc's heart to its shreds.
But darkness only swells and grows
And o'er rocks the vast throng spread.
The battle rose, with rant and rave
And ladder-steps that kept knocking.
For though the hosts were skilled and brave,
To their walls orcs did keep flocking.
And yet the proud-hearted king of men
Was amused at such weak power.
At assaults he jested in his den,
Waiting in safe, guarded tower.
For existed weapons that did scorch,
His enemy had yet to send.
A single orc holding a torch,
Dashing forth to make walls descend.
The Dunedain leader found the flame
And quickly ordered it cut down.
Expert elf-friend took careful aim
And the target two quick arrows found.
But the trim shafts were like mere soot
For the pained orc still rushed fast.
He threw himself at fortress roots,
Exploded stone, and breathed his last.
Invincible, a fort is deemed
And yet a hole bursts at the seams.
Panic ran through hosts of elves
And the kinsfolk of men inside.
Even the haughty king himself
Then did have fears to not confide.
The fearsome orcs sprinted and surged,
Flowing through the breach like black stream.
Its tide men and elves rushed to purge
So blades sliced flesh, with worn gleam.
But numbers great triumphed and beat
And defenders orcs did infest.
The king told Strider to retreat
Back to the keep, the untouched nest.
To engaged, able elven lord
Warnings the Dunedain did pray tell.
But early tragedy came and poured
And on noble elf-lord it befell.
For the elven lord, dazed and weary,
To peril he was rendered blind.
He stood like jade before the fury
As a furtive foe struck from behind.
The elves and men withdrew to hide
As thunder roared from crimson earth.
Stowed women and child then did cry
For courage was scarce and in dearth.
And so people begin to languish
With minds filled of grief and anguish.
And just as tears had left the lambs
The invader then reached the gate.
With blunted logs they started to ram
The entry doors that spelled doomed fate.
Upon the narrow, jagged cliff
Stood watching one dwarf and a man.
To the fire they jumped with great lift
From the treacherous frying pan.
With Narsil-sword and double axe
The two allies swung quick to slay.
Then orcs were compelled to draw back;
Assailants receded, held at bay.
But yet the great mob lingered tighter
For immense masses still endured.
The armed dwarf and gallant fighter
Had to escape the goblin herd.
The king ordered fixed barricade
To try and stave off raiders dark.
Despair and sorrow people made,
These once proud riders of the Mark.
To walls Strider looked in spite of plight,
As it seemed the fight was close to cease;
Recalling words of a man cloaked white,
That a wizard would come from the east.
And though it seems men meet their end,
They've yet to see the sun ascend.
Hope and boldness came to assist,
From orcs the king refused to hide.
He convened those left who still subsist
For one, last, desperate charging ride.
To young day doors opened solemn
Of their burdened owners' keen accord.
Horsemen then struck through orc columns
With stamping hooves and ripping swords.
And so they only halted the fight
When a white shape on a hill stayed.
He was shortly joined by a knight
For Rohan's armies came to aid.
They ran down steep knolls, void of fears
Like Mongol hordes of the steppes.
To dirt orcs lowered lengthy spears
But o'er pikes the horsemen leapt.
Enclosed enemy was then found
For they had chanced on star-crossed luck.
The men and elves came swooping down
And so to frigid hearts blades struck.
The fight was won, battle at end,
And drained minds turned to those with wound.
Injuries healers had to mend
With promise of lighter times soon.
Many laid lifeless, blood flowing free,
And for the parted ladies weep.
For it is sad tragedies as these
That come to pass from Helm's Deep.
A/N: Well, it's finished. Pretty long, isn't it? Yeah, a lot of these scenes are from the movie. I don't even know if I narrated the battle like it really happened, but…ah well. Okay, I need sleep now.