Air:  The South Wind -

I would stay and play in the sun all day, ruffle the waves or sift the sand, but now my sky is filled with smoke, and I carry cries too grievous almost to bear.

Their calls I heard beseaching, flattering, so jauntily I filled their sails and pushed them up the Anduin.  Now I am clothed in their livery – blood and darkness.

Now who in Linhir or Pelargir will open their windows or homes to me? 

This one?  He smells of death and stale air yet men flock to row his boats and clean skies follow.  

Can he need me?