The wizard speaks. Wood-splitting crack!
The staff of Saruman – once black
As ebony – splinters to dust.
“Betrayer of the holy trust –
Perfidious liar! Now you’ll see
The wrack of all your plans-to-be!
No longer Grey – Gandalf the White
Stands forth revealed to your sight!
And from our order I cast out
You Saruman! Here all about
You lies in ruins Isengard.
Your faithlessness all men regard
In its true light – duplicitous fool!
You are of Mordor but the tool
Of Sauron! See – who once was wise –
Your perfidy! Therefore likewise
From the White Council I expel
Yourself. As dooms-man, I, this knell
Pronounce: you have no colour left!
Of sorcery you are bereft!
Now trapped in Isengard – to leave
Your prison here, they first shall reave
From you the key of Orthanc. Nay –
There is no more I wish to say.”
So Gandalf left. Saruman stares
Out on wrecked Isengard. His lairs
Which once bred Uruk-Hai are drowned
By river-waters. A profound
Despair and hopeless gloom are now
Etched deeply on his tired brow.
He sees his plans fallen away
To ruin. All has gone astray!
Gone is his power! Here, his throne,
Orthanc’s adamantine timeless stone –
His tower – his prison! Now his cries
And curses rend the cheerful skies.
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