2. On the Death of his Wife
Her eyes, sea-nurtured, dimmed with fountain’s tears,
Soft feet, sand-cradled, broken on you stone,
Dusk’s silken nightfall, frosted by your years.
What fool was I two mistresses to serve?
For cold and cruel you took from her your price;
Her sons the offering e’en before their birth,
Her marriage bed the stone of sacrifice.
What need to turn your jealous eye her way?
For steward-like most dutiful she served –
Though tempered white with softer shades of grey –
And gave her all to see this tower preserved.
Let Shadow stalk our streets, scythe through our lives,
Thresh out all hope, for still our pride survives.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.