Death's Whisper

- Shelob

A villanelle for Faramir


The wind whispers through the pine.
A tall, stern man with eyes of grey.
And some must die, before their time.

Your sly friend, we could not find,
Perhaps from Mordor he has strayed,
The wind whispers through the pine.

My dreams have given me no sign,
That Gondor will become a city of decay,
And some must die, before their time

Of the White City's stewards, I'm last in line.
We go to Osgiliath and would have you stay,
The wind whispers through the pine.

To show my quality? the decision is mine,
My gift to you, stout walking staves.
And some must die, before their time.

We thank you, Faramir, for being kind.
Now, all must leave ere' break of day,
The wind whispers through the pine,
And some must die, before their time.