In lands far and mighty,
All soldiers had steeds,
Rode in herds 'round the fields of Rohan
Past Moria's gaze,
Near Misty's haze,
And far from the merry lands of the Shire.
A family stumbled,
Upon the hill fort Edoras,
To safety they had finally reached.
They'd run from a village,
Not too far away,
With orks eating their food,
Or lay in beds they had made.
Any horses to slow,
Would be cookin' on spits,
Men that died fighting lay in flames,
The Riders grabbed armor, weapons, and food.
In a fine line they marched out of town,
Greeted by children, loved ones, and the king.
A young Naredhyl watched her father ride by,
Holding the rain for SpeckleDancer,
His mare, Winter, whinnied to him,
And pawed the ground nervously.
SpeckleDancer jumped playfuly to her but was pulled back,
Will they come home,
That is yet to see.
