Galadriel’s Lament  

A, Valinor, I long for Thee,

Thy land I left so long ago,

For Tirion, beyond the Sea,

Thou art my one true Elvenhome.

For I left Thy shores carelessly

Desired to rule a realm my own

In wide unguarded lands and see

The beauty of a world unknown.

I wandered near and wandered far

Yet still my heart could not find rest.

Beneath the moon and frosted star

I dwelt, yet longed for cities blest.

Others have sailed across the Sea

In ships so white, so bright, so free.

Yet still I linger sorrowfully

Yearning within my soul for Thee.

O Tirion!  My Elvenhome!

Eldamar, my heart breaks for Thee

To wander in Thy gardens fair

And dwell forever there with Thee.

The Call

Hear it

We feel it

The Call

Nazgûl

Once kings; now

The Nine

We must

Obey it

The Call

Hate it

But follow

The Call

Not dead

Not alive

Between

Once light

Now all dark

The World

Sauron

He calls us

We come

Hear it

We heed it

The Call

Daeron’s Musings

A, Lúthien!  My love betrayed!

What madness possessed me?

When you came to me trusting

And I gave your secrets away.

Forgive me,

As I had to tell Thingol!

Out of love, and out of fear.

Fear that you, my love, would leave

And your beauty depart forever.

So I told; I betrayed.

I can still see the hurt in your eyes

When you looked at me;

It was torment to bear.

But then you were locked up;

A nightingale in a cage

All because of me.

You then sang no more.

My heart was in two

To see you captured this way;

While I knew that I was to blame.

Yet you forgave me still.

And you called me your friend.

Yet somehow that was worse;

Love undeserved than hatred well-earned.

And then you left me forever.

After the man who captured your heart.

So I left those woods singing sorrowfully;

Unable to bear life without you.

O!  To do it over again!

I would not betray you,

But lend you my aid,

Although my heart would wrench in two.

Yet better that than this guilt!

A!  Lúthien!  Beauty now forever past!

I shall never again gaze into your eyes.

I will sing until I pass away

Of Lúthien my love betrayed.

My Jewels 

Oh! Sweet jewels, works of my hands

Naught is so fair in all the lands

As the brilliant light of my jewels

Gathered liquid into fair pools

Oh Silmarils!  Oh purest light!

Oh, sole object of my delight!

You burn with the fire of my soul;

Without you I would be unwhole

Your radiant beam is so sweet

Without it I am incomplete

You I will not let eyes defile

Or be touched with hands vile

Ah, sweet Silmarils!  You are mine,

And I alone shall see you shine

May you ne’er depart from my sight

And leave me in unending night

~~~

Author’s Note:  This poem is in reference to Fëanor’s love and desire for the Silmarils.  (Not Morgoth’s, as my friend assumed.)

            I watched Pippin leap and grasp at the air.

            “Try to catch them, Merry!” he said.

            “I can’t,” I replied.  “They aren’t real!”

            He stopped jumping and stared at me.

            “Yes, they are, Merry.”

            “No, fairies aren’t real, Pip.”

            He looked at me with wide eyes.  “But I caught one.”

            He opened his hand, and from it flew a pinpoint of light.  The light grew, illuminating first his face; then the ground about him.  Many little lights now joined the other and began dancing around him, and the moon shone down on them from above.

            I never doubted him again.