I lay over, the icy cliff so cold,
A sword in my chest, as was foretold.
My foe has fallen, succumbed to his blows.
Was this all worth it? Will I ever know?
I hear the horn-blow, and Durin's battle cry.
Tears form in my eyes, as I know why.
The battle is won, the dwarves prevail.
Lights now shine in the ruins of Dale.
The elves march slowly, toward their great Wood.
Was all this worth it? Is my fall for greater good?
After years and years, we've won back our home.
But who now, will ascend to its throne?
Balin's wisdom, or Glóin's brawn?
My successors, they both are gone.
Who then, to lead the dwarves on?
We have our home back, but for how long?
The cold surrounds me, peace from within.
How will I be judged? How great was my sin?
Have I done well? Will Durin be proud?
I open my mouth but can say nothing aloud.
Was this all worth it? How long will we have a home?
Who will rule us? Who will take the throne?
I hear the rejoicing of my people below,
But I see the light above me, come to take me Home.
~~~~
I look below, at my kingdom, Erebor.
My kinsman Dáin, seated on the throne.
Though reckless in youth, he is now just.
I can rest now, as I must.
