Fare Thee Well

I’ll lay you down here
In the shelter of the cliff
Then I’ll go on.

Only not just yet,
Not yet. Away in the distance
Black peaks scrape the sky
The air is fire and smoke
But your hand is ice.

Here, in the enemy’s heartland,
Surrounded by foes,
I’ll sit on the ground and dream

Of summer woods at dusk,
A lighted window
Hurry, Sam! We’re late!
Bilbo will worry....
But this time
You won’t be coming back.

One last embrace,
Already cold, already pale
Already gone
Where I can’t follow.

Your sword, your staff, your star
I take, and give you mine
To lie with you in death
Like a chieftain, the bare hill
Your tomb.

The weight that bore you down
Now bears me to the ground
One last cold kiss and one last word
No longer felt, no longer heard.
Then fare you well.
Another darkness falls.

- Varda