a king he was on carven throne in many pillared halls of stone with golden roof and silver floor and runes of power upon the door the light of sun and star and moon in shining lamps of crystal hewn undimmed by cloud or shade of night there shone for ever fair and bright the world is grey the mountains old the forge s fire is ashen cold no harp is wrung no hammer falls the darkness dwells in durin s halls the shadow lies upon his tomb in moria in khazad dm but still the sunken stars appear in dark and windless mirrormere there lies his crown in water deep till durin wakes again from sleep1