In lands from west to north and south, the Pilgrim walked alone,
Gray silhouette on blackened skies, older than men had known.
His staff a banner for the weary peasants, he lit their spirits bright,
His coming was alike to dawn, he ends the darkest nights.

Riding on a steed of silver, he was counsel to the kings,
Often bearing the worst of news, but hope did he also bring.
In the black depths of the dwarves he fell, and a war he was to wage,
Battling beyond what time could tell, and then darkness for an age.

Gray no more on blackened night, but white was cloak and beard,
Kindling hopes of the hopeless soldiers, turning hearts away from fear.
Through wicked lies and painful veils, brought to life a newborn king,
Evil on the southern front, rode swifter than evil wings.

Rally man to the seven stars, forget not the strength of men,
We win a battle to fight tomorrow, may the Vala let us win again.
And companion bold set with a task of Gods, valiant as an elven-lord,
Relieve the world from a blighted king, cast down with western sword.

And the elf of the wand has no comforts, he must ride to the gates,
And before the mouth of evil is where his doom awaits.
But this gray pilgrim will see tomorrow beyond these trolls and műmakil,
And there will come a time someday you’ll hear his footsteps on the hill.