Gil-Galad the Elvin king
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- Oct 29, 2024
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The lay of the fall of Gil-Galad tolkein never finished, but my brother created and published 15 more sections of the poem:
In middle earth alliance made, the splendour of which will never fade. Of Elves and Dwarves and Mortal man: a great labour then began.
Forged then was sword and blade, under the mountain they were made, in the deeps they were put away, in such places long did they stay.
Many warriors did they need, much counsel did they heed, the muster of the people's great, preparing to assault the Gate.
They worked tirelessly, without ceasing. The time remaining ever decreasing. Hammer on anvil day after day; crafting weapons and armor for to slay.
"Let us march" came the call,"Let us hope that none will fall". Riding into southern lands. Each soldier heeding the king's commands.
From Rivendell to Lothlorien in all its glamour; Elves of the Havens amd men of Arnor; those of Minas Tirith, fashioned after Gondalin of Beleriand, their union ever nearer to the lands under Sauron's hand.
Coming slowly, there ever more the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum strode through it's door. From Moria the great and the strong. They came, the line of warriors ever long.
Indeed at last, a great force was amassed. Skilled at war; ready for peace. Honing their skills they never did cease.
The alliance came to Morrannon, to those treacherous fields to battle on: to Dagorlad, plain of the dead Gil-Galad and Elendil at the head.
The force came upon quietly. Soldiers as far as the eye could see. All about was silent and still; no noise came from that wretched hill.
Elven blades alive with blue; flying banners of many hue. No sound of drum nor trill of flute; no heavy stomp of Orkish boot.
In the eerie and foreboding wind, with all hearts wishing to recind; The earth beneath them began to slowly shake, and the deeps began to break.
In the ground a fierce rumble grew, from the Evil Mountain fire blew. Far above a screech they heard; from above the nazgul flew.
Descending upon them a net of fear, tightening around them,"They are here!" akin to the sound of Carcharoth's roar the scream upon them brought great horror.
But Gil-Galad the mighty king a song before the cowering men he did sing. A song of hope and courage and might; his powerful words echoed into the night.
In middle earth alliance made, the splendour of which will never fade. Of Elves and Dwarves and Mortal man: a great labour then began.
Forged then was sword and blade, under the mountain they were made, in the deeps they were put away, in such places long did they stay.
Many warriors did they need, much counsel did they heed, the muster of the people's great, preparing to assault the Gate.
They worked tirelessly, without ceasing. The time remaining ever decreasing. Hammer on anvil day after day; crafting weapons and armor for to slay.
"Let us march" came the call,"Let us hope that none will fall". Riding into southern lands. Each soldier heeding the king's commands.
From Rivendell to Lothlorien in all its glamour; Elves of the Havens amd men of Arnor; those of Minas Tirith, fashioned after Gondalin of Beleriand, their union ever nearer to the lands under Sauron's hand.
Coming slowly, there ever more the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum strode through it's door. From Moria the great and the strong. They came, the line of warriors ever long.
Indeed at last, a great force was amassed. Skilled at war; ready for peace. Honing their skills they never did cease.
The alliance came to Morrannon, to those treacherous fields to battle on: to Dagorlad, plain of the dead Gil-Galad and Elendil at the head.
The force came upon quietly. Soldiers as far as the eye could see. All about was silent and still; no noise came from that wretched hill.
Elven blades alive with blue; flying banners of many hue. No sound of drum nor trill of flute; no heavy stomp of Orkish boot.
In the eerie and foreboding wind, with all hearts wishing to recind; The earth beneath them began to slowly shake, and the deeps began to break.
In the ground a fierce rumble grew, from the Evil Mountain fire blew. Far above a screech they heard; from above the nazgul flew.
Descending upon them a net of fear, tightening around them,"They are here!" akin to the sound of Carcharoth's roar the scream upon them brought great horror.
But Gil-Galad the mighty king a song before the cowering men he did sing. A song of hope and courage and might; his powerful words echoed into the night.
