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DEEDS OF SONG

At the break of day

The sky has filled with blood;

Far horizons threat

Tempestuous overkill!

Freezing boreal winds

In dreary tongues forewarn:

Dare not come between

The Nazgul and his prey…

Into glory ride,

Our silver lances shine

As we charge the field

And havoc is the cry!

Deeds of song on the fields of Pelennor…

When all hope is quenched

Where art thou Elessar?

“Let my banner fly high -

Anduril goes to war!”