Weighing the Scale

By Talking Hawk

Author's Note: I wrote this on a Wednesday night because my friend Yavanna has been asking/bugging me to write a non-hobbit fic. So here's a poem about Boromir, and him trying to decide what to do in FOTR. Enjoy, and I hope at least Yavanna's happy. =P

It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

The calls it sends me anymore.

Oh, what shall I do?



I gaze over at Frodo

He seems so young, but I know

He is older than I can tell

The hobbit is wise beyond his years



It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

The calls it sends me anymore.

Oh, what shall I do?



Why do you tempt me,

O ye cursed ring? I cannot see

Why it chose me

To torture



It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

The calls it sends me anymore.

Oh, what shall I do?



I desire to take the ring

To keep it as my own

But then these thoughts sting

With the knowledge of betrayal



It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

The calls it sends me anymore.

Oh, what shall I do?



I swore my life to the hobbit

As much as I resent it, I must do it

But I have a loyalty to my country

As well



It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

The calls it sends me anymore.

Oh, what shall I do?



I love my people with all my soul and heart

With them, I could never part

My life is bound to them, as is my honor

I would die if Gondor met its end



It calls to me, day and night

I cannot sleep; I cannot fight

Its calls I can no longer drive away

It will rest in my palm

And there, forever stay