The River of Death

by ElfPrincessLarien

A poem inspired from the scene during which Aragorn has fallen off the cliff-face after fighting the wargs and is being swept down the river. His life hangs by but a thread and the river provides him with a chilling grave.

THE RIVER OF DEATH

So this is death.
A cold bitter stream
Clinging to my nerves
Freezing my limbs
A taste of salt to linger on my lips
Until my body becomes nothing more
Than a shadow in the pools
Being swept away.
Memories play before me.
Life is under me.
Over me
But no longer within me.
My regrets have bubbled away;
There is no time to catch them.
If my fingers weren't so cold
Perhaps I would grasp the meaning of life
As it passes me by
Down this cold river.
Where I will meet end, I know not.
Perhaps chilling fingers will close my eyes
So I cannot see what boulders lay ahead.
Let my body sag.
Let the sand pull me under.
There is no hope when it is so cold;
No consolation when you are alone
Floating on endless thoughts
Of bitter endings and unwanted happenings.
There's no blanket when you're body is exposed to nature.
No remedy for the wearing and tearing
Of ripped flesh open to infection.
All movement stops.
Perhaps this is indeed the end;
Hard undercurrents and flushing water.
But it is warmer here.
Sun to dry my face
Only to have it washed over again.
I will drown in the shallowest part of my being
Looking at a distant sky
Reluctant to help.
Hope rekindles and fades.
A breath of life approaches;
We brush fingertips and it chills
Every drop of water
Every vein of blood.
So that was death.