King of the Golden Hall
The king sat on a throne of gold,
So frail and bent was he.
A man whose youth had grown old
Before 'twas time to be.
He lonely dwelt in shadow land
Of thoughts confused and lost.
Whilst through the realm an evil band
Of orcs and slayers crossed.
A noble lord, bewitched, deceived
By one he trusted best,
Whose evil counsels he received,
His soul's unlooked for guest.
From deep within his world of night
He heard the clarion calls
That shattered darkness into light,
Demolished prison walls.
Slowly Theoden left his seat,
With firm footsteps he came,
And looked out on his land to greet
His people once again.