A Very Short Respite
A Tribute to the Protectors

The sword that smote the hand of Sauron lays in Rivendell.
The blade that broke the Balrog’s back re-lives its own hell.
The scalpel of blue when Orcs are near remembers all too well.

Narsil, Glamdring and Sting await their masters’ call.
For Aragorn, Gandalf and Frodo sit in Elrond’s hall
And with the councils of Middle-Earth plot the Dark Lord’s fall.

None of them can know their fate.
Yet all of them anticipate
The annihilation of what they most hate.

© 2003 ~NenyaGold~
PM me if you wish to borrow this poem. I hope you enjoy it!