When the stone is grown too cold to kneel
In crystal waters I'll be bound
Cold as stone weary to the sounds upon the wheel
When the fire is grown too fierce to breathe
In burning irons I'll be bound
Fierce as fire weary to the sound upon the wheel
Bad enough -- but I am sharing the rest of my brain with Denethor. (They do not make good company for each other!) Dad is concerned that I never wrote the last poem in his series. Chris, I blame this part on you, because I know you want to use it in your banner story follow up. Make it stop, will you? The story I am supposed to be finishing is at your instigation, after all!
Do I write too many Faramir stories?