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The Great Hall of Poets – November 2013

The Decision of Elves

by Master Ninja Wizard

I long for the trees,I long for the waves,
I long for the leaves,
I long for the spray.
I am an Elf in a world of Men,
with their towers of stone and prison dens.
But where to go; should I fly to home tree?
Or heed the gulls’ calls and depart for the sea?
As an Elfling I frolicked amid bark of grey,
But my forefathers are calling, “To the Havens, away!”
They say the Sea is the best thing to be seen;shining in silver and aquamarine.
But the beauty of sunshine through leaves is like jewels
compared to the cold, murky touch of tide pools.
O what a decision!
O what a debate!
But lo! the Sun sinks in the West; it is late;
So after the night
perhaps I’ll have a direction
in which to take flight
in search of perfection.

 

Faramir

by Taniya

White wind swallowed up the clearest of dawns
And Faramir stood alone on the precipice of his city

Beneath him were the sounds of fear, the curtailed weeping of an imminent loss
He knew it was nothing but the close flapping of Death’s wings descending over him lower and lower

Above him stood the White Tree of Gondor in the Court of the Fountain
Shining arms and shields flashing, flags unfurled in the might of the deadly wind

Earlier he had stood before his father
He had been mocked for his honesty
Told on his face he was wrong not to have brought the One Ring to Minas Tirith’s safety
Boromir would have done better, he wouldn’t have succumbed to his own character
But would have thought only of the resurrection of his pride, the rekindling of Gondor’s famed history and line
But Faramir hadn’t,
Now he wondered if he was weaker than his brother and father
Why wasn’t he ever not in love with power?
A strange fluttering broke out within his silvered chest
Incompetent, fearful of consequences, a coward for his father
A brief, humiliating shadow of his brother’s glory,
He felt so incredibly defeated
He bowed his head and stood at a defining moment
He made his biggest mistake;
Returned to his palace, broken by a Southron arrow and the Black Breath
The Nazgul had seemingly finished the weakest link in Isildur and Anarion’s city

But they hadn’t

But not knowing it, it was Denethor’s last straw
He set alight his half-alive son on a last funeral pyre
Maddened with grief, betrayal and his own ingratitude
Senseless with rage and fear he cursed at the fire
But he was thwarted in his macabre efforts by Gandalf and Peregrine Took
Who couldn’t prevent Denethor from burning to his own doom
But they had saved Faramir
And with time and the care of Aragorn and the eventual love he found in the Rohirrim-lady, Eowyn
He soon became what he had lost;After the battle and all the celebrations and the honour,
Faramir had thought, silent and to himself
Good did come of what he had done long back
Letting Frodo go and not succumb to his own greed
However disguised, however sweet it then seemed
He had defeated the blackest of forces on could slay
The ones that torment from the inside
Ghastlier than any which ride on storm or sea
He had slain his own evil
And had peace within

And now forever, as long as he lived.