Durin's Bane

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Sindar

In J. R. R. Tolkien's legendarium, the Elves or Quendi are a sundered (divided) people. They awoke at Cuiviénen on the continent of Middle-earth, where they were divided into three tribes: Minyar (the Firsts), Tatyar (the Seconds) and Nelyar (the Thirds). After some time, they were summoned by Oromë to live with the Valar in Valinor, on Aman. That summoning and the Great Journey that followed split the Elves into two main groups (and many minor ones), which were never fully reunited. Tolkien stated that the stories were made to create a world for his elvish languages, not the reverse. The Tolkien scholar Tom Shippey writes that The Silmarillion derived from the linguistic relationship between the two languages, Quenya and Sindarin, of the divided Elves. The T… more »

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A demon of the ancient world
I serve at Morgoth's hand
From mountains of Thangorodrim
To the fortress of Angband
My foes all flee before me
My fires scourge the land
All bow before the master
Of all Beleriand
I slumber deep in mountain roots
'Neath dwarven halls of old
My body wreathed in scourging flame
My heart is purely cold
Digging greedily and deep
In search of mountain gold
Awakened from my slumber
In fury I am bold
The ground beneath me booms and quakes
As dwarven fears take hold
Aided by the orcs and trolls
Those of Morgoth's fold
I glory in the slaughter
As I did in times of old
The massacre of Moria
Is how it shall be told
My piercing gaze of fire
Leather wings of black
I lead my hordes to battle
With my hordes attack
Elf and dwarf and man
All melt upon my blade
With sword and whip of fire
I am known as Durin's Bane
The bridge beneath my feet
Collapsed into the air
But with my malice whip of flame
The Istari I ensnared
We fell for an eternity
An endless cavern void
Orange and red alight the rocks
Deeper down we soared
A poison sea of cold below
Doused my coat of flame
An iron grip around my foe
Magnified my rage
My fury not yet spent
Our battle yet raged on
Apart his flesh I rent
With tooth and horn and claw
Through ancient dwarven halls
Sculpted long ago
To ragged mountain tops
Blanketed by snow
The clamoring of battle
Broke through glass and stone
An avalanche of might and rage
Shattered horn and bone
A conflict for the ages
A clash of Maiar might
Victory awaits me
Triumph in my sight
My heart looked back to ages past
The name I would forsake
No longer titled Vanima
I am Durin's Bane

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