User blog:High Prince Imrahil/A poem I've composed

I've been working on a poem titled "The Fall of Dol Amroth" based on "Tales of the Last of Middle Earth part 1 - the fall of Gondor". I've finished the first few stanzas, please tell me what you think!

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, so fair are your shores!

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, so wise is your lore!

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, so great with such power!

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, gardens filled with golden flowers!

White towers, blue walls,

Golden houses, silver falls,

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, Mighty knights upon their steeds!

Dol Amroth Dol Amroth, great tales of great deeds!

Dol Amroth, Dol Amroth, a light, a shining beacon,

to the broken world of Middle-Earth, a safe haven of freedom.

But where now are the white towers?

Where now are the gold and silver flowers?

Where do the Swan-knights now roam?

The halls of Mandos are their home.

Once they marched upon the white shores,

But those days are over and they walk there no more.

In that final battle they fought long and brave,

Yet to no ends except their graves.

They braved arrows that came down like hail,

But all their valour was to no avail,

The ones who ran, the ones who fought,

They got the same wages: it was all for naught.

In that hour stood Imrahil bold,

Sword glimmering with a deadly gold,

He stood there upon the city walls,

Defiant, though he knew his city would fall,

Brandished sword and shining helm,

He defended the walls until overwhelmed,

He was forced back to the tower with all his men,

Pulling back the bridge he tried to defend,

In the bay vast ships and galleys alight,

As Corisairs rushed in to join the fight,

Dol Amroth galleons fought them well,

But one by one the sailors fell,

Corisairs boarded the swan ships strong,

And many a swan-captain is remembered in song,

Yet the harbour the swan ships were unable to hold,

And one-by-one they sunk in water cold.

Galleons and swan-ships fair,

Now under the sea, lying there,

Forgotten and forsaken,

Hulls rotted, masts shaken.

They stand now, silent graves,

For the city they failed to save,

Though they fought long and hard,

they lie in ruins, in broken shards.

Yet stubbornly the swan knights fair,

Stood upon the bridge, against the flaming glare,

Of the burning ports and blackened walls,

That once were vast mansions and halls,

Yet unyielding they stood upon their final defense,

And would not yeild the bridge despite arrows dense.

They fought bravely in that final hour,

Against trolls and chariots they did not cower,

They fought to the last man, and had no fear,

But they all died on bitter Southron spears.

And the tower was lost, with its walls so sheer,

But we will always remember fair Tirith Aear.