by Varda-(Valar)
September 29-30, 2017
Written for the 20th Anniversary of the Valar Guild
Merry spoke to my soul and my mind,
Is he baggage to be left miserably behind?

He rides now with me upon my horse
Eyes turn from him but I am disguised without remorse.

We ride to save our allies,
He rides for love and I in hope of death, both unwise.

My uncle proves himself before me;
I come between to save his body and memory.

The fell beast leaps at me, foolish thing.
My sword drops the beast's fanged head to lie before my king.

I raise shield and bloodied blade before
A crowned but empty darkness rising from ancient lore.

I cannot win but I can stand tall.
He claims no man may kill him, but fears the long hair fall.

Then rises friend unlooked for, Merry,
With runed blade of Westernesse, he stabs into its knee.

In counterpoint rises up my sword;
In answer comes a wailing that strikes the nothing chord.

Its only remnants left on the field,
Mantle and hauberk, last baggage of the nazgûl king.