The Mask of Gil-Galad
In the midst of the marshes
Where the Dead lie unwaking
Safe are the slumbers of Orcs and Elves
Where Men fell in their legions
As ere the World's breaking
In the midst for them all is the Mask of Gil-Galad
Fell here a King
Of the Noble Kindred
Spear by his hand and a song on his lips
By Death from the
Deathless Folk now sundered
Yet still wears a crown does the Mask of Gil-Galad
Eyes watch the stars
That see no longer
Sings still the mouth whose voice is slain
Withered are sinews yet,
To look out, the stronger
As lies there in glory the Mask of Gil-Galad
Seek not the road
Through the misty Marshes!
Paths there are many yet one only is true
And travelers chancing this road
In their marches
Behold in horror the Mask of Gil-Galad
Cross Sundering Seas
His shade yet awaits
And counts in ages its tale of years
It rues now the curse
And the Battle it hates
Where it laid down the Form and the Mask of Gil-Galad
