West of the Moon
A Tolkien Fanfiction Archive
Near The End
Frodo is carried for a while by Sam.
I'm in a daze, it's hard to keep Events straight in my head. The pain will sometimes fade away, Am I at home in bed? But then reality steps in, Its cold hand slaps my face. I ache once more, my head still pounds. When will I end this race? Slowly rising to my feet, I feel my burden grow. How can I make it to that Mount, Up to that fiery flow? To rid us of this cursed thing, I can't do quick enough! My strength, it wanes. I feel so weak. The path I walk is rough. I find myself back on my knees And curse my waning strength. But I can crawl, if only that! I'll reach my goal at length! And then I feel myself arise. Is this a dream? But no! 'Tis not a dream, but my dear Sam, His strength to me bestowed! Now as he bears me up the slope, I close my eyes again. I feel the wind flow through my hair, I'm walking through a glen. Again it seems I'm in a daze, The birds don't seem to sing. Grey flowers grow, but they've no scent. The bee has lost it's sting. I wake again upon his back, The searing heat draws nigh. I wonder at his servitude, His love I can't deny. So for the moment I will rest As he walks slowly on, Grateful for a moments calm Before the final dawn.