Lady Gondor
A Lady tall with golden
hair
and eyes like stars; Her face so fair;
so filled with
wisdom and with love
and light as of the skies above.
Her
voice was ever clear and strong
and lifted up in glorious
song,
yet silent sadness still held fast,
and memory of days
long past.
Her world had changed, or so tales tell:
the
greatest of Her Children fell;
Her sister to the North was
gone;
She thought She stood alone, forlorn.
Still proud She
stood, and beautiful,
Her will yet strong, unbreakable;
She did
a deed still told in song:
She met the coming dark straight
on.
By foes beleaguered, all alone,
She hears the
Orc-drums' hateful tone;
by fire encompassed, She feels fear
as
of a cold hand creeping near.
The shadows deepen, darkness
falls,
and in the growing gloom She calls;
Her wailing voice
does rend the air:
so full of hurt and of despair.
Her
brother hears; without delay
he to his sister makes his way;
yet
naught She sees of coming aid:
all light and hope away does
fade.
Forth rides a horseman, sable-clad;
inspiring fear;
no face he had;
so towering tall and wielding mace:
a foe that
She has yet to face.
Still
proud She stands, and beautiful,
Her will yet strong,
unbreakable;
She does a deed still told in song:
She meets the
coming dark straight on.
She draws Her sword, takes up Her
shield,
and strides onto Her war-torn field,
determined to
withstand all blows,
to overcome this deathly foe.
Once—
Her
shield withstands the cruel blow;
She trembles hard, yet she does
know
with Anar's rise will come the morn;
if She could only
stand 'til dawn…
Twice—
A shiver runs all
through Her limbs,
yet She holds fast as all hope dims;
the
world so silent, wind so still,
the sky so murky, air so
chill…
Thrice—
A flash of light, so piercing
bright;
there is no beauty in its might;
a shrieking cry that
could rend stone,
and Lady Gondor down is thrown.
She rises
not from stone-cold floor,
for strength remains in Her no
more;
the cruel wraith bears down on Her,
but lying there She
does not stir
as She remembers long-gone days
of peace, and
beauty, light and grace;
the wisdom of Her Mother past
who into
oceans cold was cast.
A breath of life, a beam of light
beyond
all hope does end the night,
and in the heavens rings a call
of
morning in her lofty hall.
As She lies listening, Her heart
swells
for She does hear as clear as bells
an answer: swiftly
from the North
Her brother singing canters forth.
O
tears of joy She wept that day;
their number told not in this
lay;
they fell like rain amidst the fray
and washed all
Mordor's filth away.
And tears that mourned Her perished
sons
fell in the vale where Anduin runs,
then flowing red as
sunset's light,
now grey as tears, as silver bright.
Anar is Quenya for "Sun".
The last two lines are taken from the
poem "The Song of the Mounds of Mundburg":
Grey now as
tears, gleaming silver,
red then it rolled, roaring water
