How long have you sat here, Theoden,
An ancient reflection of yourself,
Sagging and frail?
How long has it been since you met him,
So eager to help, so confident,
Yet depending on your every word?
You had so much troubling you -
Rohan's strength failing, her people dying,
and Saruman, old ally, suddenly treacherous,
coiling up,
rearing his head before the strike -
So much that you did not notice
The snake hissing in your ear.

He craved approval; you gave it.
He alone understood - oh, how he understood!
Thus he preyed upon you.
He wished to take responsibility,
Ease the burdens that plagued you,
And slowly you gave them over.

He requested advice on everything,
Then muttered soothing pride
As you confirmed his decisions.
You feel useless now, and you are,
For Grima controls Rohan now,
And you are but a whisper of affirmation,
reverberating, fainter, fainter,
Around the Golden Hall.

A will of your own? You sold it long ago,
Along with youth and dignity,
Thought and kingdom,
To your confidant, your advisor, your "friend",
Who was bought by Saruman before you knew him.

Rohan is ready to fall.
She has already crumbled from within.

Lily's Note: It came, it stuck to my mind, I wrote. Hope you enjoyed it!
Please feel free to leave any comment you wish, and I beg you for
constructive criticism. My one request is that you refrain from profanity.
Thanks, and may the Shire be with you!