Thorin's Company

Additional Stanzas to: The Song of Thorin

Thorin's Company

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek those things our fathers hold.

Our fathers lived in halls and caverns erst
Devoured by flame, of fates the worst
By fire-drake, his fire awake
And our revenge is surely nursed.

Through stone doors thick, through stone halls wide,
Through room and stores, secure inside
In days of yore in Erebor
Until the dark rose like a tide.

We wrought in gems and stones and gold
We made marvels such to behold
As still in song for homes we long,
Yet most our deeds remain untold.

Our skill was great, our craft supreme
Our weapons sharp, our metals gleam,
We had no fears, for many years,
So fair those days and ages seem.

Far over the misty mountains stark
We dare the peril, and the way dark
We shall away ere break of day
And of our deeds all men shall hark.

Our forebears wrought with mighty spell
As many tales and true legends tell
For many lands, with cunning hands
In all we made, we wrought full well.

Palace halls, rooms of beauty bright
Rows of lanterns, bringing forth new light
In mountains deep, the living reap
To forge new marvels to please the sight.

Elves and men living above the earth
Know but little underwhere gave them birth.
Deep fatherland, dwarves understand
In life and love, in song and mirth.

Far over the misty mountains spare
We come to ransack even the dragon’s lair
We shall away by night and day
Nothing of blood nor wrath will spare.

Rubaiyat – Truth & Falsehood Uno

Rubiayat

A half-truth is a lie. And a half-lie
Is true enough to dupe the heedless by.
How to discern between the False and True
Is meat enough for all Philosophy.

So what divides the Falsehood from the Truth?
Smooth words persuade and lies present as sooth.
Utmost discernment and the grace of God
Might part one from the other without ruth.

We guess, intuit much of what we know
Then about daily business on we go.
The currents of this world propel us on
And toss us as they will, both to and fro.

Failure isn’t final

Failed

Well failure isn’t final. Though it may give brutal shocks
With in-house course intensives and its own hard school of knocks.
For though the righteous fall – not once, but even seven times
They’ll rise again. And stumble on, to reach the goal betimes.

So lost your job? Got sacked? Or persecuted by your boss?
Work for another – or yourself. It’s bad – but no great loss.
Got backstabbed by a trusted colleague who was once your friend?
Well, burn the bridges. Such relationships were made to end.

Been disinherited by relatives who slandered you
By spreading far and wide some vile lies that were not true?
The money’s gone. And so’s the love they pretended to give.
So go and earn your fortune by yourself. You know: you’ll live.

Of course there’s pain and hurt-burn. And of course it isn’t fair.
It never is. What dodo thinks the world for you should care?
It doesn’t. And it can’t at all: its show of love is hollow.
So look beyond the world to find Someone worthwhile to follow.

Yesterday Today Tomorrow

Yesterday Today Tomorrow

Today looked out with seeing eyes
Quizzical. With laughter kind.
Expressive of an active mind
That’s seeking to becoming wise.

Yesterday’s a looking-glass.
Its memories ope like a book
To be consulted if we look
Explaining why now comes from past.

But larger does tomorrow loom
Ball-gazing possibilities
Of choices, options, which we seize
For future times to judge our doom.

Jobless Duo

Jobless man

Just look into his hollow, listless eyes:
And recognise the shadow of a man
Whose soul feels death by inches. Realise
A man was made to work. And when he can
He’ll rise above himself. But when jobless
His very soul to pieces falls apart.
Not all at once: but slow. This man, hapless,
Tries hard – at first – his career to restart.
With every curt rejection, interview
Gone nowhere: see his hopelessness increase.
He first tries hard. But as the lucky few
Get jobs – and he does not – at last he’ll cease
And slip into a silent, brooding grave
Of grim despair close binding him in chains
More real than fettered steel. So what can save
Man from himself when naught of hope remains?
Only a miracle – which man can’t weave –
Can grant the jobless man a last reprieve.

To an enemy hypocrite

Medusa

I never thought you had the guile
To hate me secretly the while
You hid behind an actor’s smile.

Was it worth your hours of time
To lead me on? In wasting mine
You did yourself but undermine.

What did you gain by hidden hate?
The pride of knowing I, too late,
Would work out you’re a hypocrite?
You spite me for the fun of it?

I’ll never understand your ends
In posing falsely as my friends.

Much better if you honestly
Had hated me just openly.
But your preferred hypocrisy
Like serpents who sting shamefully
Ambushing an adversary.

God save me from all villainy
As you sometime performed on me.