Denethor’s Despair

Mine was the duty from centuries long past,
Mine should be title as well.
A king but in name had my lot it been cast
O’er all here in Gondor who dwell.

Bitter the draught I am brought now to drain.
Ill tidings t’is said comes with wings –
storm crow with glee cries of Isildur’s Bane,
And a king to my throne he would bring

But all light must pass into darkness,
All things must come to an end.
Nay, cry but fools in their folly,
Who think that this battle they’ll win.

What right to my kingdom this usurper claim?
All that I’d hold now brought low.
My line now in ruin in death and in pain:
To the tombs of my fathers we’ll go

So let all in fire and flame be consumed!
No fair land at peace shall he take.
The last of the Stewards, I go to my doom,
As the fealty of centuries I break

But all light must pass into darkness,
All things must come to an end.
Nay, cry but fools in their folly,
Who think that this battle they’ll win.

No realm I rule save what flesh I claim mine -
None shall gainsay what I do!
What fortune remains to the realm left behind?
My law for my own shall run true!

So lift up the torches, pile the wood deep -
I’m master still of my fate.
A kingdom in ruin he’s welcome to keep,
As well as my spite and my hate!

But all light must pass into darkness,
All things must come to an end.
Nay, cry but fools in their folly,
Who think that this battle they’ll win.

Read more by Teri Wachowiak

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