Eastward looked his weary face,
upon the walls of Tower Guard.
Heavy hearted, slow he paced,
wounds still healing, spirit jarred.
A woman came by Warden's hand,
then pity stirred, his heart was pained.
She wanted him to understand,
this Healing House her cage proclaimed.
His grey eyes met her grey eyes own,
and wanting not to do the least,
appeased one wish, in tender tone,
her room would now look to the East.
He begged her patience, bade her peace,
both Fated here their time abide.
And with one task his care she'd ease:
Her lovely presence by his side.
Her Winter's frost hence slowly ebbed,
a beauty true his warmth uncovered.
But still within her heart she kept
a place for one she hoped would love her.
Slowly passed their days this way,
waiting for the coming doom.
And with each look his heart was laid
open 'fore her radiant bloom.
Keeping vigil, hands entwined,
they stood upon the walls once more.
Then darkness fell, the earth gave sigh,
for Evil it no longer bore.
A great and mighty wind came forth,
his midnight hair it bore aloft.
Her sunkissed hair waved to and fro,
and met with his, together tossed.
An eagle sang from high above,
and Men, their voices, filled the air.
Thus Faramir declared his love
for Lady Eowyn, the Fair.
Her heart all healed, her Winter passed,
no longer craved she bitter honor.
No battle's end or Kingly mast,
would e'er outshine this man who loved her.