A/N: Just a little poem about the queen with the ten cats

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all.

Queen Berúthiel

Far away and long ago

Lay a woman at ship's prow

Thin and pale, weak and sore

Shoulders hunched with what she bore

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Cursed was she with silent grief

Cursed with fear that tortured sleep

Cursed regret of times long gone

Cursed for deeds that she had done

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Woven lies and webs of hate

Palace court to city gate

All she knew and all she heard

Scandal, rumor, all she learned

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Cats she used to search, to spy

Ten she had to nose and pry

Agents dark and sly as night

All were black, except one white

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Through the city streets they crept

Black ones going right and left

Listening softly, peeking in

White one watching, stalking them

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Long did she keep spying on

Long did she keep doing wrong

She knew not her end was near

She knew not her end was here

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Late she saw her wickedness

Late, her case now pitiless

Late, cried she as she sailed away

Banned forever and a day

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Lost her crown, her love, her life

Loss now cut her like a knife

Blade that slowly sliced her heart

Spirit whittled, hope now dark

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Past all Gondor, past the land

Past the South and all its sand

Past the Umbar, to the sea

To the place her grave would be

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One by one her cats all died

She alone was left to sigh

She alone was left towail

The fate of Queen Berúthiel

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