Now here I stand, <br />felt malice in chains, <br />hands swollen, stained, <br />broken sword in hand. <br />The battle may seem won <br />but hasn't this war just begun? <br /> <br />I lost my kin on the fields of Pelennor, <br />to her mother a daughter proud and fair. <br />Tell me what we waged this battle for? <br />I caress her, my hands through her hair. <br /> <br />Hoping for a King to come, a prayer I whisper, <br />one more salute at the body of my dead sister, <br />My cries resound unheard, <br />my mourning left unearthed. <br /> <br />I dug her a grave with words from my mouth <br />that saturday as the sun culminated in the South. <br />My only solace was of no availl <br />as it came from a hand of betrayal. <br /> <br />I lost my kin on the fields of Pelennor, <br />to her man a lover and wife loyal and clear. <br />Tell me what we waged this battle for? <br />I hold her face for no more can my hands mear. <br /> <br />I cried her a river from the heart to my eyes <br />this sunday as the sun rose high into the skies. <br />My only solace comes from a source without end, <br />Princess of Assur, loved like a sister, always at hand. <br /> <br />I lost my kin on the fields of Pelennor, <br />to her brother a sister without end. <br />I do not know what we waged this battle for, <br />But as the day dawns, pain recedes, a heart mend. <br /> <br />Again here I stand, <br />malice rinsed by rain, <br />hands healing in pain, <br />reforged blade in hand. <br />The battle indeed was won, <br />I know now war has gone!<br /><br />Frank Witte<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fields-of-pelennor/
