Battle Of Osgiliath

The fog of war begins to change,
A red horizon marks our end,
The enemy attacks with rage,
In rain and mud we face our death.

A creature circles in the sky,
Just like a raven circles prey,
In waves of doom it screams and flies,
Preparing to attack I’d say,

There is a power that attracts.
Closer and closer they will come,
Driven by hunger and by chants,
Driven by hunger for the One.

The rocks are flying even more,
Precision gain with every flight,
Destroying buildings I adore,
The Host of Stars will never shine.

…

The mounted champion of the South,
Black armor shields his forceful chest,
The second of the Steward’s sons,
The blood of courage fills his veins.

Blade welcomes blade to spark and thrill,
In force and energy they fight,
Clenching their hands around the hilts,
Thrusting each time even more might.

A poisoned arrow leaves the bow,
A steady hand, an eager eye,
To send a soul into unknown,
Before it was his time to die.

The Host of Stars is falling down,
In dust and pieces of its walls,
In shame we have to turn around,
Retreating to some greater wars.