Broken. The fragile thing that was our company

Has shattered, shining fragments in the mud

Or scattered on the hillside and beyond.

Fools we were to trust to bonds that might be

Broken. My sword, the remnant of a traitor-king,

In shards, like jewels unstrung, it slumbers

On a velvet bed. An heirloom, as he said,

And not a blade by which the Dark Lord might be

Broken. He lies before me, all defenses crushed,

The castle walls have crumbled, splintered gates

Lie open. Through the breach his shining words,

Ride out, ambassadors from his heart to mine now

Broken.