A/N This is (obviously) about Denethor's despair-it's also my first LOTR fic! EEE!

Disclaimer:(me no own)


Come Mithrandir, come too late,

To hinder me with your hope of light;

Already we burn in blazing fate,

A fitting end in the coming Night!

You hope in Halflings, witless fool!

In faithless Rohan riding forth,

So face the Witch King, hopeless duel;

There is no King in the crownless North.


Review? Please?