The weight of this mask is unbearable.
As with Frodo ‘s thinly smile wavers in and out,
Sam will always be cheerful as Mordor lies over my heart.
This light sword I take,
As with Aragorn’s buckler on his left,
By the side of Legolas’ knocked tips,
To Gimli’s chuckle.
My feet will run,
My mind sprint,
My heart will walk
Until I see none only to be at the road far side from Mirkwood to Fangorn.
My mind will rest easy,
If Saruman will grin with an evil laugh with Sauron at his heel,
And keep all orcs at bay.
Pencil rough to outline
Finished without enhancement.
from Denethor you are recieved,
from Boromir you are percieved,
from Faramir you are believed. . .
to Eowyn of power,
of Arwen in her stature,
and Galadriels’ tears you remain loved.
Who bore you, mighty You?