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.