Poems of the Pine: March of the King

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It is time to March towards Mordor.

Book 7 – March of the King

Our rest was brief
When the battle was done
As the hale must heal
The hurts of the wounded.
The captains took council
On the course to take
And chose to march
And challenge our foe.
 
We sounded the trumpets
As our troops set forth
Into Gondor’s glorious
Garden – Ithilien.
There we marched to the north
Towards the menacing gates
Till Cirith Negen
Came within sight.
 
There our scouts espied
Some scurrying foes
Who set an ambush
Along the sides of the pass.
We snuck behind
With a silent cry
To break the ambush
That blocked our way.
 
At the edge of the Waste
Our worries did grow,
So we sent a scout to survey.
Sauron wants us to arrive
To his Sable Gate
For he’s prepared a plan for us.

Next, we start the final stage of our march.

Pineleaf Needles

One comment

  1. We must walk open-eyed into that trap, with courage, but small hope for ourselves. For, my lords, it may well prove that we ourselves shall perish utterly in a black battle far from the living lands; so that even if Barad-dur be thrown down, we shall not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so than to perish nonetheless – as we surely shall, if we sit here – and know as we die that no new age shall be.’

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