A Lament for Boromir

- Sinthor

A Lament For Boromir
By
Faramir
Prince of Ithilien, Steward of Gondor



The East wind brings ill tidings tis said, and this I know to be true,
For this night I saw a vision of death, sailing out to the ocean blue.
O Boromir! My Brother dear! I know now you will never return!
What tragedy befell you, are there any lessons I can learn?

From the manner of your burial, I see that the enemy bought you at great cost,
Yet would I that it had been me instead that had gone away and been lost.
O Boromir! To die within site of the land that ever had been your home,
If only the days had been longer, if I could have lended aid of my own!

Companions true of yours I have met, but of you they will say naught,
O Boromir! What truth lies here, did you not acquit yourself as you ought?
Of Isildur’s Bane I now do learn, I see the choice before me,
O Boromir! I fear that this thing did prove a trial for thee.

You were a great and wonderful man, the heir of Gondor’s line,
But well I know the pride within; for the kingship did you pine.
At last I see that my deepest fears are mirrored in the Halfling before me,
But brother dear, what honor here, he still will speak no evil of thee.

Now here I see his fear run deep when he learns of our relation,
Will the brother act the same as he who caused such tribulation?
I feel the pull but am repulsed, never would I take this thing,
If for the sake of you alone, I will help destroy this ring.

I will return, to our father grieved, but these details I’ll not say,
Never to mar the memory of you, no further will the shadow hold sway.
I know my brother, by the signs of your passing, that redemption was your last act,
And I will hold on to this while the shadow lasts, my motivation in that fact.

I will strive to serve my father well, and hold true in your stead,
O Boromir! Can you see my pain, from your home in the halls of the dead?
I would have given my life for yours, no hesitation, no thought for myself,
But now we are parted by a bridge not traveled by man, Vala, or elf.

I’ll seek thee in the forest, ever listening for the sound of your horn’s call,
And when we meet again, may it be in Ithilien, under green leaves that never fall.