1. Lady Gondor
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.
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…
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…
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
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.