All of your efforts whisper secrets to me
I laugh at their frailty
I see all

Where will you go
When the mountain impedes you?
I am the harrowing voice in the wind
I am the White Wizard

I am the tongue of flame
That tastes the breast of the mother
She will quake in her pleasure
And bury you beneath her

It is unwise to face the fingers of the deep
You should have risked the western way
The doors of Durin have remained sealed for an age
Starving the dark remains of Moria

The era has ended
That place is a forgotten tomb
Your names will echo through
The halls of the Dwarrowdelf