Home is behind
The World ahead
They rode out-all that were left of the brave captain's brave men. The streets were strewn with flowers to mark their passing; the last of Denethor's once proud line, the last of his brave troupe, riding to their doom. The streets were lined with the folk of the city; men too old to ride to battle, children to young to understand; soldiers who would stay behind in defense of home and steward. Women wailed above the solemn clatter of the horse's hooves, ringing like death knells on the stones. Their fathers, husbands, sons, and lovers rode on to death and all who saw them knew and wept.
And there are many paths to tread
To the edge of Night
And who would mourn for Faramir, Captain of Gondor? A father mad with grief for another, more worthy son? No maiden's eyes would grow misty at his passing, no mother's heart would break when his body lay broken among the broken ruins of Osgiliath. When he failed to return no son's thoughts would stray to his sacrifice, no brother would be filled with courage at his bravery. He left behind no legacy; no one to mourn the fallen son of a fallen steward. The gates closed; a clang of sealed doom. Home lay behind them; death lay ahead, cloaked in tattered and broken dreams of men who went before them.
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and Shadow
Cloud and Shade
They urged their proud steeds on to a gallop; why delay the creeping march of death. The captain of Gondor, fearless in battle, but frightened in his own failure blinked the tears from his eyes. Tears, not for himself but for his men, his brother, his city, even his father. A final, fatal chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor to show his quality. He rode through cloud and shade, mist and shadow, shrouded by the flight of darkness. When the fire of pain met him he greeted it as a friend until even the pain faded; overcome by shadow. The world was swallowed. Fading. Fading.
All shall fade
All shall fade