[Starbreeze]

Ok, got my attempt now.

Appeal to Mithrandir (Or Battle of the Pelennor Fields)

Once on clouded day of doom
There stood a host of mighty men
Upon the battlements they stood prepared,
There to win, or die, or lose,
To fight the orcs of Sauron's hoard.
In one lone man they placed their faith

In Mithrandir, wise Mithrandir,
Did dwell within the Tower,
Their doom drew near with every hour,
And in each heart lay mighty fear
As the orc host drew ever near.
Oh Mithrandir, Great Mithrandir!

A cloud there grew, high over head,
And men began to flee the tower
Afeared they were of Sauron's power.
From the darkened sky, nine shapes,
They were espied and with deaf'ning
Screeh their blood lust cried.

Great Mithrandir, Oh Gandalf White!
We need your rescue from our plight,
Our end draws near with each drum beat.
The sky is dark, the ground is red.
Some rumours say Faramir is dead.
Come Mithrandir, wise Mithrandir!

Copyright J.Old 2002