Poem: Minas Tirith

This is for all of you Lord of the Rings fans (nerds) out there.

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Minas Tirith

Where man's last vestiges of hope begin to wane

Beneath their steward's maniacal reign

There pulsing lies a vein within the stone

And pale blossoms yearning to be grown

Summoned by shaft of metal in repair

Grasped in the fist of lost Isildur's heir

The resurrector of the dead Arnor

And Gondor's long awaited savior.