UPON THE SLOPE

No one can feel the stillness of the night through the words
The darkness of black night cannot darken these fading pages
Each weary step, each dying voice cannot be heard
Nor can be felt the groping hand, or heard each choking breath that is taken.

No one can see that forlorn figure, stabbed and stung
Lying, exhausted, at day’s end
On the other side of the world, through the pages hung
Hiding that sad sight of my tortured friend.

No one can hold the cold hand and reluctantly let go,
Compose the dead body and ask for forgiveness
For not going with him by the sharpness of your own sword
And with those first heavy steps, feel your whole life has fallen in ruin.

No one can run up those steps, determined
Or lye in darkness, defeated
Nor clutch your friend, by tears blinded,
Each other’s touch what each other needed.

No one can keep up the pace when weary
And still help your exhausted friend
Or still even stand with this weight you must carry
A torture and a burden to the end.

None but Frodo can fall upon their knees and keep going:
Crawling on their hands;
None but Sam can vow to carry
His tired friend up the ashen sands.

AN This is an old poem of mine and I of course thank you for reading it! Please Review it or Private Message me!