Arrows in his chest,
He turns to me with despair and pain on his face.
You have not failed me, Boromir; it is I who have failed you.
For the first time, envious of the size of man, I was too small to defend you.
My friend and comrade who looked after me, and treated me like no other.
These fowl creatures taking us away, they smell of burnt and dying things.
I watch Merry suffer, and again I am not strong enough to save him.
Of what use am I on this quest
So far only to cause ruin and death.
Merry is wounded and not himself,
It is left to me to decide how to save us.
A jump in the mist, a shiny trinket to leave,
So Aragorn will come and free us from these beasts.
I may be too small to save us all,
But will rise enough and give my all.
To that I will hold tight,
And stand tall in Middle-Earth tonight.