I have came from Minas Tirith..
Where I now live.
From the new King of Gondor,
My tears is what I give.

I walk up the stairs,
To my old Celtic room.
Handcarved whispers,
No flowers bloom.

Winds blow north in Rivendell,
but no one is here.
They have all left to The Havens,
and mortality I fear.

Father is calling,
He’s into the West.
Middle earth is safe,
but I have no rest.

Winds blow north in Rivendell,
The Evenstar is shattered,
New life has begun,
but immortality is tattered.