One Last Alliance
Long ago an oath was sworn,
An alliance once existed between elves and men,
When dying the eldar pledged their love,
Long ago they fought and died together,
The banner of the house of Finarfin, silver and blue,
Proudly displayed by warriors of old,
Silver mail shone yet unsullied,
And bright eyes, deep wells of sorrow.
Those who were deathless, joyful, all enduring,
Who knew no pestilence nor age.
Whose memories reached back to the dawn of days,
To another alliance,
One chance to destroy evil forever.
One failed chance.
They came to honour that alliegance.
The younger race, who were the catalysts,
For them the eldar made this final sacrifice
And undying were slain.
Blood in the early dawn.
Fair faces lay pale upon the stone,
And dark blood stained the banner of Galadriel.
A red sun rose, blood was spilled that night.
May they find peace in death.
Red blood, and the red flame flicker of a cloak,
Rich ruby stirring fitfully in memory
Of the precious life it once contained.
Blue eyes held sorrow beyond tears,
Staring emptily into the growing dark,
With the final knowledge that should never have come,
No immortality for the sacrificed.
Flaxen hair stained with blood red as his cloak.
His burnished, leafen mail rent and twisted.
Silent, unremarked, the last elf fell.
Last soldier of the eldar people.
Though he was but of the Avari,
Too lost in darkness to know the true light,
Silently, he fell,
Defending fragile mortals.
Noble, deperate, futile,
One last alliance.
Why did they come?
To this grim place, knowing death awaited them.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once more."
One last alliance, shrouded in a grey curtain of rain.
And sodden, a red cloak flutters to the earth.
Sacrificial. Proud. He falls.