What is left of the nightfall's caress?
Who now sings in the halls of our fathers
To the children no mother will bless?
What is left of the plains and their freedom?
What is left of the skies high above?
Who now rides in the glades of remembrance?
Who now wanders the earth that we love?
What is left of the deeds of the mighty?
What is left of the glory of old?
Who now hears as the wind tells its story
of the flames that long since have grown cold?
I remember but fire and ashes
of a destiny torn and defiled.
I remember but torrents of shadow
and the merciless claws of the wild.
I remember but tears on your faces,
in your eyes, eyes wide open in dread.
I can't see past the fear in your voices
and the curse on the lips of the dead.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.