Sunset
Let the years turn, let the winds come and try to
topple this high place, this brave city, if it can.
Let your name be lost to the pages and pages of
history that, even now, are still being penned
somewhere down below in one of the lower circles. I
will hold tight, to it and to you. Hearts love and
hearts break and sometimes hearts even forget, yet I
will not. I honor you in this, yes, but in truth I am
a greedy man, and it is that I simply will not part
with the memory of you.
Look at the sun, Boromir. Can you see her? She rides
low on the horizon, her light a golden glow trapped,
so fleetingly, against the clouds, her fierce, failing
touch glinting as gems against our standard of the
White Tree that flies free, unfurled upon the winds.
It flies free, and has done so for many a year.
I have kept my word and kept your city safe. I have
become a king to your people, made them my own and I
have done my best to be a good king to them. I have
loved and lost and I have had a wife and queen that
has brought me unending happiness, a family that I
love beyond measure. I have had all this and more,
and I have remembered where others have not.
People forget. That is the way of things; it is as it
should be. My name has joined yours in the pages of
history, and one day it too will fade from memory. I
would have it no other way. Let us be forgotten
together, my love.
I am an old man that stands here on your White Tower,
an old king that looks out at the dying of this day's
light and that shivers in the chill autumn air. I will
be finished with this world soon, this autumn will be
my last, and as a dry leaf fallen to the ground, I too
will be laid to rest. I say let us lie down in the
pages of history and be forgotten and finally find
ourselves free to love. My life has been full. I have
lived well and have been honored with the love of many
good people, and though leaving those that love me
best pains me, sometimes beyond measure, my time is
drawing to a close and I cannot deny it. This is as it
should be.
I stand here in this cold, high place and I want to
ask, can you see me yet, Boromir? I am making my way
to you, though slowly. The years have been long, and
these last have been kind to me, so I come to you with
a full and happy heart. I have not lacked for love
since I lost you; I have only lacked having you with
me to love, and so I have loved you from afar. But you
have not been far away, have you? Not too far, I
think, for I have felt you every time I've looked down
upon our city. I feel you now, as I face this fading
sunset.
Watch for me, my Boromir. I will come find you soon,
and then all will be as it should have been. I have
not forgotten. I will not forget.
by Archet
eople forget. It is the way of things. Time blurs
memory, perhaps so old wounds might heal, might at
last cease to ache. It does not care that one might
wish to hold tight to such wounds. Time does not care
that some might wish not to forget, and so, I defy
time. I will not forget.
