Hope Enjoined

- jan-u-wine

Being the fifth part of the Rivendell Suite

Drowned Numenor delivered him up,
a King,
 
noble, fair.....
 
A King, with all his house and people,
fleeing before the angry breath of the Sea.
 
In the courtyard of his exile,
the seedling of Nimloth grew,
 
ancient silver'd light
fading
 
beneath the wheel
of years.
 
In memory only,
now,
 
it blossoms,
the snow-white
 
of it recalling
hope to us.
 
 
Isildur.
 
Grand-sire of my House,
what evil
 
worked its will within
a once-fair heart, ...
 
what
darkness
 
led us to this fated day?
 
 
I need not ask.
 
There It stays,
radiant.
 
Like a smooth-limb'd
bride It lies,
 
honey'd whispers
touching my ear
 
with golden promise,
 
black malice
immeasurable.
 
Here, in this glade of Autumn,
at last I find pity
 
for him.
 
His House,
 
my House,
shall bear this dishonour
no longer.
 
Were-gild,
device of Evil,
 
flower of Sauron,
 
call out,
please,
 
call out to your Master.
 
Sing in the darkness,
false-gold.
 
Whisper your last promises
to ears that shall be
 
shut
against you.
 
Not by ancient axe
shall you be destroyed,
 
not by Dwarf
or Elf
 
or Man.
 
Hope
 
Within this unbroken circle,
foretold,
 
it stands forth.
 
Our Hope
shall be your doom.