Tindómë
(Starry Twilight)
Elven warriors
Marching in rank
A gold and silver wave that gleams
Like a brilliant sunrise
Moving towards their fate
Immortal knowledge guides
Their hands
Age-old wisdom drives
Their hearts
Clear grey eyes look out over a
Horde of blackness
Steadfast and unblinking
Gloved hands tighten over their
Long swords and spears
Bows and halberds
A vision of shining mail
Stands alone a top a hill
His cloak ruffled in the wind
His banner a rich blue with a spray of silver stars
Upon its brilliant field
Flowing gently in the breeze
His fierce eyes shine with the intensity of the Noldor
His spear is long and tapering
carved of rich hard wood
and crowned with a deadly silver point
Fierce and white hot like a star
He wields his spear with
Unmatched speed and skill
Their King
their hope
their greatest
The last to unite the Elves
Gil-galad, gazes down upon the enemy
His figure is a pillar of might to
the warriors of his House
Who stand posed to
Attack at his command
Elven knights protecting their clans
The last Guardians of Middle Earth
The vast sprawling kingdoms of the Noldor
About to fall
And become Legends to all
The scent of death is upon the air
The legions of Eldar moved imperciblily
A shifting
of their hearts and spirits
In that brief moment of
Perfect silence
a calm is found amid the chaos and fuilty of war
Hardened resolve settles over the multitudes of warriors
For they know their spirits will never die
And this brotherhood of the Firstborne
will meet again in the Halls of Mandos where
The greatest of Elven Kings reside.
Do Not Repost without Permission.
This writing is the intellectual property of the author.
All writing is by Voroturiön.
