by He That Walks Unseen-(TV)
August 25, 2006

He was clad in gray robes softer than the wool
and eight warriors saw him as he tried to keep
the secret of death that dwelt in Mazarbul
as they started hearing some drums in the deep.

The wind that was blocked started to sing,
the faces turned pale as one blade turned blue,
'twas the mighty Maegnas, the mythical Sting
announcing the arrival of servants of Thu.

"They are coming", Yes! Coming fast indeed,
To arms quickly, yes, said Gandalf at once,
Get ready for battle and prepare to bleed
To defend the Ring is our only chance.

The voices of Goblins flooded the great room,
And Aragorn's blade ignited its steel
Like souls are ignited when they find their doom
among the great souls they once tried to kill..

Frodo slain the guardians of the darkest parts,
Glamdring sang the songs once heard in Gondolin,
Boromir deceived the fate of twenty darts,
Aragorn made Goblins pay for their great sin.

As the foes were slain, the Fellowship refilled
the glass of hope given by their sacred quest,
Frodo felt the Ring was closer to his chest
as he saw the Goblins that laid hurt or killed.

The silence was stained with awful roars and sounds
Of  an Orc that bore a mighty spear of old,
Its huge steps like earthquakes shook the gentle grounds
like the spirits tremble when their souls are sold.

The spear found its target on the bearer's chest,
Oh, dear Master! Shouted the poor Sam at once,
Frodo lay immobile pierced by the big lance
And his soul was thought to have retired to rest.

The Orc's head was cloven by the mighty thrust
Of a sword ignited by hatred and pain
And thus sixteen eyes tainted with disgust
 Fell on the fell creature like a deadly rain.

Like an earthly rock lay the Halfling still
When a spark exploded from his mighty chest
And Gimli saw Mithril emerge from the vest
That was kept untouched by the hobbit's will.

The bearer alive, the company free,
the Ring safe and secret, the hearts soaked in blood,
their souls unprotected, a memory of Bree,
The words of the wizard were like a great flood.

We must flee from here said Gandalf at once
I have felt the presence and warmth of my doom
We must flee from here, 'tis our only chance,
We must hurry and cross the bridge of  Khazad Dum.

Thus was left old Balin in his tomb to sleep
The great Khazad Lord who once was fierce and stout
He who heard the phrase 'we cannot get out'
As he heard the voices of  'drums in the deep'.