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This is a poem I wrote back when I was 15/16. It was published at that time in a young writers’ anthology of poetry called “Globe Jotters”. It was inspired by a scene in the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, where King Théoden laments for his son Théodred.
 
 
As the sun set,
He looked, without feeling the day,
Knelt down, left words astray,
And as though it was a part of him,
He dropped a white flower, heartbroken.
His manliness showed no more,
For agony was too near,
And tears meant to be hidden,
Were slowly accompanying lamentation.
 
He touched the cold earth,
Felt the day pass by,
Not a moment too soon,
Not a moment too late, he sighed,
Understood the bitter truth;
He reared his son,
Only to see him die.
He thought the of the futility in life;
Old men stayed and watched
As their children died before them.
 
Now grief was too near.
The sun’s rays dwelt not here,
In this forbidden land.
Death was so cruel,
So cruel, thought he,
When he felt his heart melting,
And the pain crouching stealthily,
He could not stop to say;
‘No parent should bury his child.’
Then buried his face in hands,
And wept away.

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