How could it possibly be conveyed

how gratitude of first breath thrilled;

eyes unlocked the soul's own faith

that itself slowly inspired revealed.

Coming into being for the first time.

Despite the homogenous past

where nothingness was entwined

with the Flame's immortal blast.

A bit of a pain, wasn't it?

To become a spark of a monad.

For birth would also permit

nostalgia of oblivion in God.

The first thought of the I AM,

a diamond descending double spirals,

while past's nothingness was... hm?

first time alive, forgetting the arrival.

The shape was an illusion of sinking

deep into dimensions where forms

were the fate of the Avatar unblinking,

yet estranged of immutable norms.

Their souls the size of a dragonfly,

so delicate, provoking pity and mercy,

for when you overpowered the tiniest guy,

their immortality became priority per se.

Such a small orb of concentrated force,

of their childhood of awakening maturing,

and whenever they'd open Ea's doors,

they shouldn't be pushy but enduring.

For Eru granted them his own design,

to each a piece of elemental impetus,

and once they'd learn how to combine

the effort of their piece of mind and trust,

they'd be the Rulers of the World,

its Primordial Forces and Collective Driver,

yet... new eyes... what have I heard?

Ages would pass by until they'd decipher.

Each fatigue to reach out

would make them cooperatively skilled,

fragile, never rushed or too loud,

yet obfuscated sight in waves instilled

imperceptible submersion so aquatic

of sound waves interference,

each attempt to listen was empathic,

until at one point ~ new bodily coherence.

This is how they swayed in transparency,

in some etheric state of airlike sleep,

sharp thoughts and astral visions in sea

of celestial telepathy, into the deep.

Their common harmony grew,

as they sang in tolerant transmissions,

and then it took place. The dew!

... And Eru gathered them for their mission.

(...)

The Ainur gathered in a choir,

each a master of a Sound,

some sang deeper, some did higher,

to the Choice of Music Bound.

For they uttered their Music,

the Symphony of Life in Colour.

they Filled the Void with Cubic

expressions of an inner Lore.

The Emptiness ceased to be devoid.

Now it was alive and emanating,

echoing fractals unveiling in Astroids,

Sacred Geometry Circles creating.

The Glory of their Song was Hailing

before Eru, their Father of the Form.

Never after was heard such a captivating

story to be told; yet, it's worth the waiting.

For in aeons, Second Music would be born.

There was the Ainur Melkor,

who was the mightiest in Elohim potential

among his kindred, yet his core

was lured to try a forbidden sequential.

He brought discord to the Piece of Art.

Lower in pitch, deeper yet a noise,

distorting with delays of seconds, a warp,

a vortex birthing diabolic choice.

"Zacheem ya zdhuu zvonkaa...", unnerved,

as a cave's reverberation, but of a drill,

it got prolonged, then brisk, then curved,

unrealistic, sad, or even equal to Eru's Will;

Confused in blasphemous infernal chaos,

seemingly Melkor's dualism balanced the shape.

The lesser deemed righteous his cause,

yet it was a mere lesson, lest a mortal grave.

For all would lead to the Creator,

the Father that Holds Forever the Flame;

all surveilled by the Immortal Reaper

of the Law so Strict ~ in the Hall of Pain.

Glorious souls fell shamelessly from the sky,

their birthright of life and choice did not endure

the trial of Mercy's initiation against the lie

of scenery's costumes, filled with mere lures.

Sad but true. Deus Ex Machina

comes at the End of Time to lift the decor.

"you reap what you sow" and nostalgia

is what's left when the Law opens its Door.

(...)

The scenery was compressed

in the Ainur third eye's wisdom;

as they didn't know the rest,

save for their part in prisms.

They possessed the gift

to know the distant ages;

least Eru would insist

to hide some secret stages.

They were hopeful as spirits,

creative guardians of oath,

suddenly noticing the merits

of Eru's own accord of growth.

Self-mesmerised audition

had missed out on the Music

of the pure loved apparition

of Eru's Children cubic.

Eru's Third Song dateless,

had forged them into life,

firstborn Elves, the fadeless,

Later Mankind meant to die.

For all the glory of the Elven race,

light infused in eternalised flesh,

soul maturing in the endless days,

based on moral choices to progress.

Devoted to arts and guardianship,

perfectly balanced with nature,

evolving within, through hardships,

save death punishes the impatient.

As for the humans, the little ones,

made of mud and blood, spirit and soul,

destined to disintegrate to bones,

they had rebirth to achieve their goal.

Karmic circulation versus stagnation.

Tabula rasa, memories that ever-last.

Innocent ignorance falls in temptation,

yet those accumulating rot so fast.

Wisdom of days may lead to growth,

yet the freedom of Self is to shift,

for it is a weight to be young yet old,

while to change DNA means a gift.

Where did Eru plan to nest them?

In a planet so unnoticeable yet worth while.

Dense, between stars, the smallest realm,

yet love for details means care for all life.

Arda was the name of the globe.

Where the ocean was a reservoir

of Creational Music, the grid control,

singing unknown sounds evermore.

From the shores, the ocean's a riddle,

the air breathable's the access to revival,

the Earth so solid, a molecule-solidifier,

while Imperishable, Fire ignites it all.

The Ainur were in love with Arda.

The elemental world of their song.

Nested in the cosmic hair of Varda,

with their rights and their wrongs.

They marvelled at the sea roars,

its depths chanting mysteries of Life,

the grid balancing the planet's doors,

from whatever would with destiny arrive.

Each Ainur to their specialty;

Manwe the Fair loving the Air.

Ulmo with his watery loyalty,

Aule generous, for Earth is bare.

Melkor's attempts to ruin their watch

were rooted in consuming fire.

Yet the water remained untouched,

free from corruption that conspired.

Gravitation swirled the oceans

in its bank within the soil of Earth,

yet Ulmo loved the air's motions,

so liquid evaporation was brought forth.

Clouds started circulating in the sky.

Eternal oath between two brothers,

Manwe and Ulmo protecting from stimuli

of unwise powers, yet still from the Father.

Aule was curious and gifted with wisdom,

almost competitive to Melkor's prominence.

Yet he was lighthearted and took pride in

the beauty of creation, not dominance.

While the Ainur were full of hope and joy,

and Melkor was failing to conquer the sea,

all of the Vision disappeared without noise,

and suddenly Eru uttered: "Ea! To Be!"

Life took shape, beyond imagination.

The Ainur were able to tell the difference.

It was so real and alive, through rotation.

Yet still void and to-be-built through diligence.

Some of the Ainur still live at Eru's side together,

beyond the borders of created world.

Yet some committed to remain in Arda forever,

became known as the Valar; for they served.

Loyal to the execution of the plan,

always on vigil, always alert and creative,

they pledged to never abandon Arda, the One,

a Hierarchy of Light, the Locals Protective.

The Valar entered in Ea,

so confused and wonderstruck.

For nothing could be seen there,

Time swished the first line on the clock.

They had been creating their Carols,

in the Drafts beyond, the Timeless Hall.

The Dawn of Hours launched its spiral,

the beginning that marked it All.

The world was just a shadow and a song,

they started patiently constructing it,

for rhythm develops progressive among

epochs forlorn now, in effort collective.

Unknown substances, faint remembrance.

All but a spark of memories subconscious.

Finally the Valar reached the resemblance

of a Home for Eru's Children, their promise.

Manwe, Aule and Ulmo,

the architects-in-chief

perfected every detail with hope,

with faith and absolute belief.

Melkor was decaying in vice,

in avidity craving the realm's belt,

to dominate it, deluded, unwise,

despite his gift still innately dwelt.

"This shall be my kingdom,

my name shall it bear,

and all of it will be a dome

of my Idea, so prepare!"

Manwe, his brother, indeed played

the main role of Eru's second song,

so he called upon Spirits mighty and great

to protect Ea before Melkor could do it wrong.

"What is the deed of many

cannot belong to only One.

For their efforts are caring

for Life and its central Plan."

So all compassionate Spirits

together protected Ea's conception.

They cared not for merits,

only for souls to-be-born in perfection.

The Valar obtained colour and form;

the outcome of their Elohimic evolution,

still their essence a Christic code beyond,

unfathomable but a possible expression.

Often they'd present

themselves as Kings or as Queens

Yet the nature is always the absence

of all ... but the secret within.

Many were the Valar's allies,

at the nucleating launch of their Act,

no detail skipped, centre- or edgewise,

the dense form beyond the abstract.

Some workers were great in reach,

some of them humble in service,

taming in circles the elementals unleashed,

arranging Arda, control and observance.

Effort all around, at steady pace,

never rushing any phase,

for water fluid waves caught space,

and lava gushes were ablaze,

air birthing life through aspiration,

Earth crevices shaking and crumbling,

elemental creatures of Yavanna, patient,

were watering new gardens, buzzing.

Alas, Melkor was observing at the border,

full of petty sense of rivalry and envy,

while the Egg was forming at the corner,

he couldn't perceive it; yes, he couldn't see.

Twisted in inexplicable forms and sounds so reaped,

the Keys of Enoch lowered in vibration,

all planned to be mysterious, unique and deep,

yet all deviations lead to inferno's damnation.

Melkor, mighty, burst in a violent storm,

attacking with hope he couldn't decipher,

and all they were building peacefully roared,

the Ainur protecting it, Melkor a viper.

Melkor - an earthquake till abyss,

the Ainur - a creational surface,

Melkor was rising the low valleys,

attempting with all to repurpose.

They were filling in seas in Earth's holes,

the villain was scattering them wild,

their flowers, harmony reflecting the Laws,

soulless Melkor, plucked their smiles.

Reviving the poor plants,

these beautiful, chosen built ones,

a premonition, for these Lands ~

Were always meant for Eru's children.

The Ein Sof's absolute wisdom

in the unity undifferentiated of the plane

surely planned to be a home

of everything; from single dot in a domain.

The pure potential, single point,

without dimension, all-compressing,

erupted from within and voiced

the Motion, drawn the Circle nesting.

The segment of the line connected

to a second point within the Space,

the Circle was drawn, directed

always around the point with Grace.

And when the circular motion returned

back to point where it all started,

the golden proportion was formed,

infinity expressed within form dotted.

Second circle, the same compass and ruler;

always the same motion, the perfect solution.

The second circle defined its round maneuver,

Vescica Piscis! "Let there be Light!" Oh, son!

Two equal circles' intersection,

the perfect Light of the Cross, so alive.

Christic Emanation of Perfection

and Crystals diffracting Colours of White.

Masculine, feminine,

heaven and earth,

all in symmetry to win,

never less than imperishable worth.

This is the mystery of Eru,

The Maha Elohim, the Chieftain of Form,

the Model from Absolute Zero,

the Law, the Essence that Performs.

Eru made a gesture of allowance;

now the Valar's turn commenced.

In pre-dawn silence they pronounced

the Music of their Heart; segments.

A breath of AOR-EL-OM,

Manwe's air filling the entire sky,

whispering Will into the dome,

breathing life, he alchemised.

Varda dreamed out her IAH-OR,

Stars spinned, wheels within wheels,

Constellations of wisdom before

the beginning of time, guiding ideals.

Ulmo, in the depth of MA-UR-EL,

stored the matrix of the plane,

in the newborn life of form: the whale,

the fluidity of form maintained.

Yavanna, growth in nature: ELO-HAVA!

Love, cohesion of all ecosystems,

self-supporting life evolves a

sense of lawfulness and neatness.

BA-OR-ETH, the craftman Aulë,

crystalised the minerals of Earth,

Substance and Form-building science,

always respecting Eru, or the First.

Oromë's pathway of movement,

teaching the forests of pursuit,

RA-EL-ON's wilderness, attunement

Hunting goals of Motion's root.

Mandos DIN-EL-AM, guarding the Law,

in the Halls of Waiting, of All Destiny.

The cosmic balance, the cycles, the awe

for harmony through conflict: "Be!"

NA-OR-IM, NA-OR-IM, falling asleep,

in Irmo's astralscape of dreams,

devotion, idealism, passion deep,

where nothing's as it seems.

Estë's Healing, restoration;

fields where one rejuvenates.

sanctuary of patience;

devotion that endures and waits.

ZA-VA-OR of Vána's seasons,

the spring, the fountain of youth,

cycles of renewal are the reason

flowers grow anew with hues.

The sacred sorrow of Nienna,

deep mourning purifies within,

temples of compassion, when a

soul transforms with KA-NA-EL to win.

Speed and grace of Nessa,

LA-ES-OR of love's cohesion,

agile life forms do caress a

dream that wants to be born.

Vairë weaves the time,

cosmic tapestry of TA-RA-IM,

so no one says "It's mine!"

All is intertwined, it's always been.

Tulkas, the strong defensor,

battlefields of GA-UR-EL light,

the endurance of a firm protector,

arenas of challenge in sight.

And... Melkor, KA-OR-EL, the mighty.

The First Ray's shadow before the fall,

his own chord someday he shall see,

but not before the transmutation of the All.

As above so below.

As below, so above.

Vesica Piscis, embryo,

and vast Cosmic Love.

One circle is Source,

two circles - polarity,

The double beating Heart,

form a Third - "Libera me!"

Galaxy collisions,

balanced in Trinity's clover,

Elohimic visions,

the passion of the lover.

The Ainur's 13 harmonious nodes,

universal lattice of creation.

Manwe's breath central blows,

his octahedron, firm foundation.

Varda's sphere, cosmic starlight,

In icosahedrons Ulmo flows,

hidden channels, connecting light,

and.... what else, who knows?

Matter and mountains, rise! -

in the cube of Aulë's structure;

Melkors tetrahedron, first chaos,

integrated in the lattice's debugger.

Dodecahedron of Yavanna and Oromë,

expanding nature, nurturing growth,

Uttering: Wildness, Thou, a Home Be!

Mandos and Vairë restoring in sorrow.

Nienna and Estë, healing and pause,

the nodes of vitality and dreams,

Irmo and Nessa, through doors,

animating cosmic flows in between.

The Maiar transmitting energy, intention,

influence across geometry's blueprint,

and all Platonic solid form the Engine,

the cosmic map: So Life does win!

The Valar, agents of the greater force,

have assistance in their service.

The Maiar, crucial is their part

in the structure of the universe.

Once the world was shaped,

the beings started governing it;

the world's development they traced,

intermediance covered herein.

Ambassadors between the earthly, the divine,

guiding all natural phenomena,

influencing Middle-Earth's path and design,

history building, autonomous.

Gandalf, Saruman and Radagast,

Melian, the evil Mairon,

cosmic order's functions everlast,

under their guided wisdom.

The universe originated in the mind.

Musical expression of divinest rightness.

Gandalf rarely involves directly, mild,

subtle direction rather than brute force.

Higher realities in correspondence

transpire what happens on the lower plane,

material and spiritual simultaneous

realities intertwine; the agents, hence

have to be careful not to disbalance,

the justice of the Law is absolute,

the fine line of pushing forward to advance

and holding back, enabling the resolute.

Vibration of motion and energy,

cosmic harmony does unify,

separation from the synergy,

results in discord that amplifies.

Mairon was a Maia of Aulë, revolt,

great skill in craftmanship and discipline,

his pedantic desire to control,

resulted in corruption, oh, ambitious son.

Cause and effect, rarely direct change,

rather a chain of subsequential decision,

the greedy heart becomes a cage,

humble spark of bravery - fruition.

All things move in circles, in cycles,

mirrored in the rise and the falls,

but what's restored remains vital,

if you nourish it, harmonious, in law.

What has fallen, will be transmuted,

lessons learnt at painful cost,

and... the Maiar are recruited

to help, so no one's lost.

Ilmarë is Varda's loyal helper,

a handmaiden of imperishable care,

alongside the banner-bearer of Manwë,

Eönwë, the greatest martial herald.

Ulmo's Ossë rules the stormy seas,

washing Middle Earth's shores foamy,

his wife Uinen tames his wrath with pleas,

she's the sailors' protector, of mercy.

Melian nourishes Irmo's Lórien gardens,

nightingales sing wherever she goes;

the wisest Maia Olórin appears when

wisdom, hope and comfort are scarce.

The Children of Ilúvatar always rely

on the Higher guidance and support,

incarnations shall turn to the Sky,

for the role is limited; yet not the heart.

Thou, dearest Creatures of Eru,

doomed to empirically prove your faith,

don't despair at Melkor's doom,

for immortal proof is what awaits.

Last of all stands the name of Melkor -

the one who rises in Might.

Alas, he betrayed its meaning and lore,

and lost its code from sight.

Now Morgoth, the Enemy ~ destiny evil.

Always turning to the Self in I'M.

Although blessed in Age Primeval,

he chose the path of Ego's decline.

For he was an equal to Manwë in all,

but he chose to scatter his flame, dark,

ever trying to plot, scheme and forestall,

so his power too unnoticingly shrank.

Pride, the root cause of falling,

he desired to dominate over all Will,

yet the I AM is connected and loving,

just a part of a matrix that builds.

And the Cube that is progressive,

so asymptothically heals itself,

the fractal's limited though comprehensive,

so it can't Rule, so subjectively compelled.

Yet the initial charge of Glory

deludes the particle that absolute it is.

Before the end of the story,

before the shortage it will witness.

Many believed Melkor's beautiful form,

twisting and decaying their gifts,

Maiar so confused by his delusive charm,

and fell to a state of disbelief.

Among them stood Mairon of Aulë,

first a loyal apprentice, subject to commands,

yet all his humbleness ended as to reset,

till he Morgoth's shadow would expand.

Gorthaur the Horrible, greedy of power.

He wanted to subject all Life to his rule,

yet true force is to respect the lower,

for their soul is driven by their own fuel.

Even if evil manages to creep in,

or subject the mind to fear's empty whims,

the Cube will switch its algorithm,

and then the soul will follow another regime...

So evil's a mission destined to fail.

For it is not imperishable in its load,

and when the energy exhauts itself,

you're at the mercy of Eru, the Lord.

Peace commenced; in silent comfort,

the Valar introduced the order dreamt;

Yavanna sow the seeds in the Earth,

the ancient fires were already spent.

Living beings need the light,

nutrition from a solar essence,

so Aulë created two lamps bright,

over the vast Sea in omnipresence.

Plants, mosses, grasses and ferns

sprouted and vivified the Lands,

photosynthesis in cyclic terms,

and trees, the ecosystem's lungs.

Beasts inhabited the riversides,

the grassy steppes and lakes,

birds were yet to sing in the skies,

sleeping in Yavanna, not awake.

For her beautiful abundant song

was yet to enfold in duest time,

rushing the moment is wrong,

so evolution is a matter of design.

In the dawn of time, the Valar lived

in the centre of the Great Lake,

in Almaren they dreamt and advised,

and they would rarely take a break.

The Seventh day is time for rest.

They observed their plan unfold,

and all would turn for Eru's best,

magical beauty for eyes to behold.

The light holders, merry and hopeful,

infusing unconditional love in all,

into every living creature, lawful,

thrilled for the future: in awe!

Illuminate, dear newborn sources,

while you are still naive and young.

For there are some evil forces...

that plot... and what they plot is wrong.

Tulkas and Aulë were tired,

after the resistance to the overthrown,

so Melkor secretly conspired,

while they were resting at home.

While the beauty was progressing

in the Golden Ratio's unified model,

Manwë was preparing a blessing,

a festival of Hope ... yet Evil

was furtively gathering shadows

somewhere beyond Eä's borders,

alas, the dark Ainu had eyes

amid some treacherous Maiar indoors.

The Valar of Almaren lowered the guard,

light's predisposed never to get worried,

in the harmony of Spring, a youthful chord,

Tulkas and Nessa got happily married.

Illuin, the lamp at north of Middle Earth,

Ormal at its south, they shone in the space,

yet parts of the ground, the depths of the world,

didn't get caressed by their brilliant rays.

Melkor decided the hour commenced.

He crossed the Night Walls from the north,

with his hordes he stood against

all source of Love and imperishable worth.

So he started building a fortress,

under the mountains so somber,

where Illuin couldn't caress

the landscape; he hid yonder.

Utumno, his new den, came into being.

Although with a rather gruesome start.

And he churned with blackness, poisoning

all his tar could reach; declaring a war!

Greenery decaying in slime,

rivers blocked by weeds,

Melkor declaring: "All's mine!"

preparing to end the Ainur spring.

Sinister and eerie pits,

lairs of bloodthirsty monsters,

suddenly the Valar's wit

got alarmed so as to ponder.

The guardians prepared;

they started searching for his den;

yet Melkor was already there -

the lamps in the trees he damned.

He gushed at them at once;

he demolished the branches.

And the lamps turned to crumbs,

their essence spilled, insubstantial.

Fire of promises betrayed

spilled with the sadness of death;

for their hopes were preyed

at and all the Valar wept.

The beautiful dreamy lamp holders,

couldn't ever fulfull their destiny.

Their innocent childhood was smothered,

they never weren't what they could be.

The Earth shook at the smash

of the branches of Life's Tree.

The sea erupted and it splashed

all that it could reach and see.

So this is how Almaren sunk.

Arda got destroyed; it never recovered.

And the tree mourned; its trunk

filled with loss and sensations bothered.

The Valar got too busy

with the trouble to tame

the elemens; it was a key

so save the place in frame,

for the Children of Ilúvatar

were hidden somewhere deep,

somewhere safe by their Father,

who safeguarded them in sleep.

That was the end of Arda's Spring.

The realm never fully recovered.

And... would even the Valar sing

of the lamps that never survived?

For a guardian is victory,

and when unable to protect,

all that's left is to hope to see

Eru's plan,... working to erect.

For the Maha Elohim promised

that all works for his ultimate glory....

so maybe Ormal and Illuin, lost,

would someday ... live their story.

The Valar left the Middle Earth with grief,

they relocated to Aman, the land at west,

its shores washed by the Outer Sea; relief,

a new hope, a fresh start, a place to nest.

The Outer Sea Ekkaia surrounded Arda,

Aman's western coast bathed by that watery pit,

only the Valar knew its verges; or the

location of the the Walls of Night beyond it.

Belegaer, the Great Sea, splashed Aman

from its east side, lost in vastest horizon,

and since Melkor had built a spooky den

in Middle Earth, still roaming, with spies in

the entire place, once a dreamt heaven,

now a crossroads of the fallen creatures,

so the Valar soared the mountain chain,

called the Pelóri, beyond possible reaches,

These Mountains of Aman were the highest

among all of the world's tops and peaks,

Manwë built his throne on these skies' crest,

on the summit itself; seeing into the deeps.

The Elves would name it Taniquetil,

the sacred top of Manwë; fair rule shown;

where judgment isn't vengeful but tranquil,

its other names Oiolossë, Elerína; and so on.

The Sindar Elves would call it Amon Uilos,

from where Manwë and Varda observed

the earth till the far east; Valar source

of all protection and care for the world.

Behild Pelóri's unreachable walls,

the Valar built Valinor, their home.

The gardens, towers and halls,

eternal and imperishable shone.

For there was no sign of withering

in that Fountain of Eternal Youth.

And... it  got better than the Spring

of Arda, and that was the Truth.

Everything there was blessed,

ever renewing itself and thriving,

flowers, stones... all was fresh,

and... immortally enticing.

Love and faith, beloved essences,

in harmony replenished the place,

peace and unison, in fragrances...

all was beautiful and ... full of grace!

Valinor was finally created in full, with love.

the Valar chose their dear homes,

built their city Valmar, endless bells above,

beyond the mountains, in the plane it rose.

In front of the western gate of the city,

a green hill soared, Ezellohar they named it.

Yavanna often sat there and sung with pity

all that she fathomed and felt for eternity.

Nienna grieved at her side,

weeping in silent contemplation,

the Valar listening without display of pride,

from their thrones in Máhanaxar, with patience.

As their were observing with adoration,

two tender stems sprouted from the mound,

the two Trees of Valinor lay their foundation,

hopeful and serene, they radiated all around.

They were Yavanna's greatest creation,

of glory unmatched, in purity's form,

their fate the epitome of predestination,

all legends around this story would be born.

Telperion, the elder tree,

the male producing silver dew,

and Laurelin, with female younger glee,

in yellow flames her fruit she grew.

All Creation advances in waves,

from the Supreme Creator's heart.

each level of existence it blazes;

two great rays emerged in the start.

The Golden Ray of Divine Will and power,

the drive to expand and to create,

the Silver Ray nurturing love in God's Flower,

carrying wisdom and intuition great.

Together forming the Third Ray of the Sun,

containing all divinest qualities within,

the desire to learn and express in the form,

diffracted in the twelve rays that win.

The two Trees of Valinor emitted the rays,

of golden/silver substance of the attributes,

harmonising all cause and effect of the days,

their purpose bestowed from the Absolute.

Will and Power, Wisdom and Enlightenment,

Active Intelligence to guide life's journey,

all potential encoded in their beautiful scent,

but mostly in the inner light they bore within.

Blessings of Laurelin, Telperion,

your brilliance essential for all life streams,

yet...an omen so forlorn

creeps vague and undistinguished, so it seems.

It took seven hours of the divine clock

for the glorious trees to fully grow up,

they'd take turn to sleep, they'd lock

an hour after the other one woke up.

So for an entire hour they attuned,

their rays merged in unified radiance,

for six hours Telperion bloomed,

till the twelfth did so Laurelin, consentaneous.

So each day they'd follow this cycle,

defining Valinor's day at twelve hours,

the trees' light dispersed in spirals,

till it rained on all lands and flowers.

Varda would gather the dew and the rain,

she'd pour it in water reservoirs and lakes,

and all the Valar would draw vitality, sustain

their eternal buoyancy and all young shapes.

This is how the Days of Valinor commenced;

the Count of Time marked the start of fixed units,

energies carefully started being dispensed;

the clock defines the distribution of all dual merits.

The Time appointed by Ilúvatar

for the coming of the Firstborn (Elves),

was approaching; almost the hour

when they would come out of the Well.

Middle-Earth, meanwhile, lay

in darkness beneath the stars of Varda,

where Melkor roamed in terrible display

of coldness, fire, cruelty, beyond the

fathomable comprehension of the mind;

all deformations of evil originated from him;

while the Valar rarely would leave their shrine,

tending lovingly the lands beyond Pelóri Mountains.

The Valar differentiated in responsibilities.

Aulë was the Master Craftsman of precise work.

Gifted in smithing, craftmanship, his duties

were to weave with knowledge of the Earth.

His wife Yavanna guided all growing things,

and she yearned out of care for the Lands Beyond,

for she was concerned about all growing beings,

grieving for her deeds initiated there, yet gone wrong.

She would often leave the meadows of Valinor,

the home of Aulë to wander and heal all lesions;

the wounds of the world she'd never ignore,

inciting the Valar to battle anew in those regions.

Oromë would also ride in the darkness,

in unknown woods as a mighty Hunter,

taking down monsters of the ugliness,

with Nahar, Valaróma victorious thundered.

For the nefarious realm had to be transmuted

before the coming of the Firstborns,

and Middle Earth was still polluted,

in shadows and deviated forms.

Ulmo also never forgot Middle Earth.

His music echoed through the world, entire,

with Salmar, Ossë, Uinen, he'd guard

all life, in hidden places, from Melkor's desire.

The Sea Elohim dwelt alone in the Outer Ocean,

he governed seas, rivers, springs and rain,

neutralising much of the enemy's poison,

navigating fluids, the water cycle he maintained.

Manwë, the King of the Valar, heavenwards

ruled from Mount Taniquetil;

eagles and hawks his messengers,

he was always just and tranquil.

His brave strong birds brought so much news

from all corners of Arda, near, far and wide,

yet for the darkest secrets of Melkor clueless

he remained; they hid from his wise sight.

He desired peace, not display of power;

furthermore, power was not to be found in control,

but in managing self-balance in the Flower's

all manifestations, situations and sudden roles.

Serving as Ilúvatar's vice-regent,

he was the defender of the world...

always choosing mercy and patience,

never bitter, never vengeful; he heard.

For indignation ignites low emanations,

it leads straight to the trap of perdition,

first sense of justice, then vengeance,

it drags one down to self-annihilation...

So Eru chose Manwë for his heart,

which always responded to hatred

with calm lovingness, never with war,

patiently allowing restoration of the sacred...

For he knew the Flower of Life,

and the Cube in Eru progressed in algorithm,

so... no need to rush it; the device

is just part of Deus Ex Machina; a logarithm.

While others worried, he had fullest faith,

that someday Melkor would be restored,

he knew not how, or when, all he did was wait,

and serve his duty, while God self-explored.

And the children of Eru... they were asleep.

In beautiful cocoons of light,

so hush... their dream is so deep.

And their future destined to end bright.

Despite all challenges encoded in their souls;

methods of growth, even if pain's included;

they will all eventually reach their goals,

in the epos of life, their brave hearts boosted.

Sleep now, while you are still cosmic embryos.

Life is beautiful, go gather victory pre-natal...

For soon Eru will open the unknown doors...

and victoriously, fates will turn for aeons fatal.

Such was Arda back in the beginning;

the Days were young, before the birth

of Eru's Children; still, it was spinning,

the newborns yet to appear on the Earth.

The Ainur didn't dare partake at all

in the Music of their Father, obeying,

in the perfect song that ought

develop all hidden codes, portraying

the part of the plan, requiring trust,

knowing one's own hierarchical place,

not intervening when ignorant's a must,

first due to free will, then due to grace.

For only silly creatures have pretence

to adjust when they lack know-how;

patiently allow the blueprint to advance,

in eternal respectful and faithful awe.

For that reason the Valar decided

they would keep respectful distance,

and Eru? He had lovingly ignited

his own contribution to existence.

The Elohim were the higher brothers,

the chieftains of Ilúvatar's Children,

The Elves, or Firstborn Quendi Elders,

the Seconborn Atani, or - the Men.

The Valar would rarely intervene

in the fates of the two world races,

for coercion usually ends with unforeseen

outcome that the soul eventually faces.

So, out of concern, out of decent care,

they would sometimes try to guide the youngsters,

yet all forced attemps would end in shared

responsibility of observing consequences.

The Elves were closer in nature

to the Valar, more fathomable; aligned.

So their fates intertwined in layers

that were deeper, compared to the humankind.

The human folk were gifted with virtues

that were somewhat strange, a bit unknown,

with a peculiar destination their usage,

only the external side revealed and shown.

To each their strength, to each their destiny.

All parts of the lifestreams' web and doors.

All would leave their mark and legacy,

...while learning how to yield their force.

After the Valar had departed,

a quietude reigned for some time,

Ilúvatar sat alone, good-hearted,

in contemplation, beyond paradigm.

At last, he held his breath for a bit,

and uttered with wisdom and glory:

"I Love the Earth that I have fit

to home the Quendi and Atani deary.

The Quendi shall be the most beauteous,

they shall craft the most excellent works;

the most beatific and harmonious,

almost immortal and youthful in looks.

Never withering; invincible against decay.

They shall have the longevity of spirits,

yet incarnate, they shall be the ones to stay

forever in this world, yet with a limit.

The Man shall have another gift; a blessing.

They will benefit from mortality

and they shall be the ones, progressing

beyond the Music of the Valar; free!"

Tabula Rasa at each last breath,

able to travel in spheres beyond the confine,

liberation at the stage of death,

new experiences empirically they'd define.

Ascending travellers of time and space,

always moving towards the center.

Wandering piligrims transmuting their ways,

under surveillance of spiritual mentors.

Each sphere has guardians of portals,

and every time a human passes the tests,

they can enter through new realm doors,

get accustomed to the laws and all the rest.

For the Central Universe is far away.

Havona's Seventh Circuit, the welcoming world.

Human beings are never meant to stay;

according to their awakening levels transferred.

they move from circuits to circuits,

inwards, based on their spiritual growth,

a pattern always reflected, in pursuit

of the Trinity itself, recognised in sight.

In the sixth Circuit they would recognise,

the Master Spirit's I AM individuality,

presiding over the entire superuniverse,

the human soul would stabilise in loyalty.

Attaining awareness of the Master Spirit,

in the Fifth Circuit they become prepared,

for the journey towards the Deities; a visit

in the Infinite Spirit; the next step ahead.

Eternal Son waiting for them in the Fourth,

Universal Father in the Third immersed,

Paradise inhabitants in the second hearth,

enrolling in the Finalists' Corps in the First.

Until the human destiny becomes fulfilled,

and their causal bodies become limitless,

to serve God they would be thrilled,

for eternity has a lot to offer in progress.

Eru established the heart of the mortal man

to not find peace solely in the world of Arda,

yet to seek beyond its borders and to find

deeper truths; for there was the Musical Law that

was the marginal ultimate manifestation

for all form within to develop in reach, vitally;

the effort and deed of men in formation

would accomplish the world's goal, entirely.

Yet the strife for power, Eru did know,

would lead to frequent straying from their path,

so they'd often usurp their gift and throw

away the primary creational talent, in wrath.

For avidity is the true reason behind

the ego's yearning to possess dominion;

or the vainglory for the others to find

your own persona as the fairest in opinion.

Such power doesn't really crave a skill;

it is useless and weak at the very core;

losing the capability to distinguish so still,

leading to foolishness in decisions' lore.

Yet karmic patterns know how to lead,

intertwining destinies and lessons learnt;

at that times honour becomes a creed

that turns the self victorious and grand.

Bravery and the beauty of principle,

they would save both Elves and Men.

Virtues would cleanse their planet, hence,

from debauchery and restore its heaven.

Evil's dimness is a state of alchemical Nigredo,

that has to be transmuted in a state of pain,

washing away impurities in the insight of Albedo,

immortality of the Rubedo, in I AM Self sustained.

Who knows what bore the consciousness of Eru,

unfathomable mystery for lower creatures of the world.

For he declared, already patiently prepared to

witness the breaking of his Law, unheard.

"Men shall know that all they do

will contribute to the glory of my Work."

So... Creation follows and pursues

in all its entirety the Creator's Arc.

The Elves had the reticent concept

that human folk often grieved Manwë,

the closest Valar that Eru dearly kept

most acquainted with his design's expanse.

The Quendi deemed people to be

similar to Melkor in their spirits;

although the fallen Elohim did feel

only fear for them and their specifics.

He actually despised them greatly,

even when they served his objective;

for he innerly perceived, innately,

that they carried deeper perspective.

The human children were mere guests

in the vast lands of Arda, where others

were bound to remain and know not the rest;

The Atani travelled beyond these borders.

The Elves could never fathom the notion

of where these souls would travel, so far;

they, instead, had profoundest connection

with the local planet, its water, earth and air.

For they could never age, nor wither,

nor fall in sickness or a mortal bane,

save they were slaughtered; they could linger

due to mourning, melancholy and pain.

And if sadness caused their light to quench,

they would enter the Halls of Namo Mandos,

where they would wait eternity to attend

their wounded souls; ultimate fate undisclosed.

Sometimes they would be permitted to return,

or they would wander in the Halls of Waiting,

what would happen after the trial - unknown;

only yearning and zeal for Arda, never fading.

Meanwhile, people would have long been gone

beyond the fate of all residents of local nature,

even the Valar would hope to peek beyond,

in aggravated time when they'd invoke patience.

Yet Melkor would cast a shadow on the gift

of humankind to be free Strangers of Will,

their hope filled with posionous twist

convincing their goodness to choose evil.

Nonetheless, the Valar had predicted

back in the dawn of their constellation,

that the humans would be admitted

to the Second Music of Creation.

The Children of Eru still weren't born,

yet something secretive took place.

In the meantime one Valar would yearn

already to teach a disciple his ways.

Aulë, the Elohim craftsman - because he

was so impatient compared to the Timing

of Ilúvatar, which was flowing so slowly,

created a race of his own mind's designing.

In the darkness of Middle Earth,

while the Valar was yearning

for the Children of Eru's birth,

he started silently working

on the formation of another race;

The Dwarves, the little cave fellows,

who turned out to be brisk in stubbornness,

for the Thought of Aulë would follow

a pattern, kind of vague and rushed,

which reflected on the small men's nature,

yet deep in their hearts they hushed

out of love for mining, crystals and labour.

First he crafted the Seven Dwarven Fathers,

and out of fear for Melkor's grim dominion.

the Valar encoded that the workaholic creatures

be firm, unwavering, obstinate minions.

When Aulë finished the last detail,

he stood there, in loving excitability,

yet Eru appeared, for what he did was wait

yet eventually he asked for accountability.

Once the Valar started teaching

the Dwarves to speak the tongue

he had prepared for speaking,

Eru appeared and Aulë felt wrong.

Eru scolded him severly,

wisely, out of a sage's authority,

"What have you done here?

Beyond your field of creativity?

Is this what you desired -

to act beyond jurisdiction,

where the spark of my Fire

ignites beating prior completion?

Is it good for a creature

to move without their own will?

Giving birth, in that be sure,

concerns the life; it can't be standstill.

For a living creature is responsibility,

a golden promise handed with each life;

every stream needs full credibility

and you have acted on your own, in spite?"

Aulë was already in deepest regret;

full of remorse, he swished his hammer,

for, - disobedience? he did not meant

it; never, not at all; he craved not power.

The little innocent children of Aulë,

with the tiny hopeful eyes and fullest faith in them

in their creator that bore them sincerely,

saw their very own Creator trying to annihilate their stem.

They moved with broken tiny heart,

not understanding why they were born,

why they were given a purest start,

only to be cursed, killed and sworn.

Eru immediatelly stopped his son,

from commiting a gravest wrongdoing.

"Don't worry - they're already born,

don't you see; alone, they're moving?

Otherwise they wouldn't try to run away

before your utterly whimsical decisions.

Know - I've already accepted them to stay

as your offering, for they're alive with their missions.

I let Drarwes live! Be Lawful, Children!"

And Eru gave his son a hug of caress,

and Aulë did remorsefully explain his reason,

that he acted out of an impulse to express

an inner driving force to shape new forms,

such as his Father, the God of the Tesseract,

had this innate desire to ignite, to explore

through experience; hence, the witnessed act.

No evil intent, just impatience,

the desire to teach an apprentice.

And... the Dwarves felt obeisance

towards Aulë, their Creator and superintendent.

Mining, crafting, smithing; gems;

the little elemental brothers of gnomes,

fell in love with the works of Aulë; hence,

they started learning with effort, at home.

They would be tireless, loyal to the Elohim,

with a bit of a stubborn temper,

and while they diligently worked in team,

they made happy their mentor.

Riches of minerals and stones,

metals, ores and precious crystals,

they loved their life, their promise,

alive and free, for Eru showed justice!

When Aulë heard of Iluvatar's decision,

he threw away his hammer, relieved,

he thanked Eru for the admission

of the Dwarves he had conceived.

"I hope that Eru blesses my deed

and restores the parts that I did wrong."

Yet Iluvatar refused at all to fix

anything that Aulë's hand had done.

"As I have created all of the Ainur

in the very beginning of Light,

I accept to give a place to your

yearning in the world and ignite

the spark of the Imperishable Flame

in the hearts of your Created Race;

yet I won't correct their original shape,

they shall be according to your ways.

Yet one thing I refuse so firmly:

for them to awake before my Children;

your impatience I reject severely,

and you shall gradually wait until then.

It shall feel for quite a long time,

yet you shall not fall into temptation,

and when the moment turns in its prime,

I will wake them up in the Creation.

They shall be like your Children.

But that shall happen in an hour unknown;

after the awakening of Elves and Men -

and not before the Signs are shown.

At many times there will be quarrels

between My Kids and Yours; so be aware,

for they will differ in manners and morals,

so there will be fights and conflicts to bear."

Aulë humbled himself and hushed quietly,

patiently took the Dwarven Firstborns,

put them in secret places that varied entirely

and waited for a very long term.

And since they had to come into being

in the days of Melkor's mighty reign,

the Valar created them strong and enduring,

firm, stubborn and hasty; for they

would be hard-working and tough

in dire situations of hunger or physical lack,

in enmity and friendship showing rough

and hasty temper, yet a team and a pack.

They would live very long lives,

longer days attributed to them

compared to the mortal men years,

yet not immortal in this realm.

Elves would believe that upon their death

Dwarves would return in the soil itself,

yet the Dwarves had a legend instead

that they would be cared for well

by their Creator Aulë, or Mahal the Maker,

he would gather them in Mandos' Halls,

yet in separate strongholds of the Reaper,

then at the End Iluvatar would call

them forth and give them dignified place

among the Children of Creation,

and then, in the Finale of the Days,

the Seven Fathers, the Firstborn,

would re-appear in their midst,

and all the Dwarves would smile,

headed by their King, Durin the First,

greatest among all their tribes.

The Originator of the Drarwen kin

that would live in Khazad-dûm, or Dwarrowdelf,

the most ancient kingdom that there's been,

of glory, in the Mines of Moria's wealth.

This tribe would be the Dwarven folk

the Elves would have greatest bonds with,

of architectural achievements that provoke

awe, marvel and respect for those smiths.

While Aulë was labouring to craft the Dwarves,

he was keeping them in secret from the Valar;

yet eventually he decided Yavanna deserved

to know of his deed, so he made her aware;

He told her all about it, wholeheartedly,

and he felt great relief from his confession;

Yavanna listened to his sharing carefully

and showed compassion and affection.

"Eru is our God of mercy" said she;

"I see that your heart is full of glee.

That is so because of the fact He

granted you forgiveness but also agreed

to give you permission to continue;

which is an act of great generosity.

Yet I must warn you that since you

hid your deed from me, now I foresee

that your Children will feel no mercy,

or tenderness for what I love and create;

as their Father they shall always be

fond of what their hands touch and make.

They will dig the Earth without concern

for what grows on top or lives in the soil,

so many trees will die, cut and torn,

by their axes, defenseless against turmoil.

Aulë answered: "This is true.

But also valid for the Children of Iluvatar,

they are destined to use, too,

all they find on Earth, with approval for

using the goods of the entire land

for their nourishment and needs, vital,

for everything on Arda is at hand

to secure their physical survival.

Yet they shall do so with gratitude,

with respect for the resources they use,

Eru commands so; that's the attitude

towards animals, fruit, wood they produce."

"Lest Melkor pours poison in their hearts."

Yavanna had her concerns already,

for she knew her Creation had a grim start,

for they had to thrive in conditions unsteady.

Fear shook her fragile, tender soul,

full of desire to provide all blessings

to the newborn flora and fauna in the soil,

she found no peace, while addressing

the internal dispute, how would she prevent

their total suffering, destruction, corruption?

So at the end she took a decision and went

to Manwë, to ask for guidance and deduction...

Without spilling the secret, she sought advice,

her eyes full of tears, her voice trembling,

for she knew that the Elohim Regent was wise,

so Yavanna trusted his authority's reckoning.

"King of Arda", Yavanna revered him,

"Is it true, the saying that foresees,

that when the Children or Eru appear in

Arda, they will be able to do what they please

with my Creation, for their needs?"

"It is true." Manwë confirmed.

"But why do you come and proceed

to ask, since you're already informed?"

Yavanna gazed upon her own soul,

trying to detect her deepest motif.

"Because I care deeply for all

Creatures that on Arda live.

Isn't it enough that Melkor destroyed

so much of what I gave a divine promise to?

Won't my Children be ever able to employ

their own Will against the outer display of ego?"

"Had it been in your jurisdiction"

Manwë questioned her maturely:

"What would be your own decision:

what would you preserve so surely

among the members of your kingdom?

What is dearest to your heart among them?"

"Everything has a quality of its own,

they influence each other's destiny and stem.

Yet the Kelvar can run to protect themselves,

while the Olvar can only grow defenseless.

But ... the Trees,... I pity mostly their fates,

for they grow up slowly and helpless,

no one will mourn for them if they don't survive

until they bear a fruit, their tribute to the world.

They will fall down easily, deprived of life,

no one will cry for them; ever unheard.

So I beg this from you, dear King!

May the trees have the right; and I mean it,

to speak for all the green living things,

to punish those who make them go extinct!"

Manwë got marvelled at her thought:

"Your idea is somewhat peculiar!"

Yavanna objected that her vision had caught

signs of that desire in the Song he could hear.

"While you were high in the skies with Ulmo

and you were creating the clouds and the rain

the branches of my trees and their crowns

were soaring against them, singing in reign."

Then Manwë got silent and began to fathom it.

The idea of Yavanna sowed a seed in his soul,

it started growing and Ilúvatar, animate,

perceived the notion and all he did Know.

Manwë felt the Music soaring within him,

he'd heard a lot, before, without comprehension,

and this time he felt support in the hymn,

the right wing of Ilúvatar's omnipotence.

All stands upon the right hand of Ilúvatar.

All that before was born in the Ainur's hearts.

Eru's right hand stretched out and the Adar

poured out miracles to bless some new starts.

Súlimo woke up, then to Yavanna he went,

sat on Ezellôchâr underneath the Two Trees,

he talked excited about what heaven-sent

news were shared, so her request he did please.

"O, Kementári, Queen of the Earth,

Eru spoke and said as it follows:

'Do you think I haven't heard

all of the song with all of its goals?

When My Children wake up on Arda,

so will Yavanna's thought too,

she'll call forth spirits to ward the

Kelvar and Olvar they'll be drawn to.

They will stay forever in her kingdom

to protect it with their righteous anger,

they will serve forever with wisdom,

earning respect and awe, as guards.

While the Firstborn are blooming

and the Youngsters are still headstrong,

the guardians will always be doing

the work to help against all wrongs.'

Remember, however, you didn't sing alone;

we sang together in our sacred quest

as magnificent birds, high our Voices shone,

predicting the Eagles, the Heralds of the West."

Yavanna stood up so happily on the hill,

raised her arms entirely towards the sky, blessed,

"May my trees soar so high, O, Free Will,

that the Eagles of the King in them may nest."

Yet Manwë objected to her, calm, gave counsel.

"No, only Aulë's tree shall reach such height.

The Eagles shall nest in the summits of mountains.

They shall hear from there all pleas and cries.

While the guardians of the trees

shall roam in the woods.

This concludes all the news,

and I did what I could."

Yavanna went to her dearest home,

found Aulë melting metals in molds,

"Eru is Mighty! Mercy of our Lord!

Your Children shall be careful in their patrols,

for there is a terrific power in the forest!"

Aulë, objectively, agreed to that statement,

"Yet they'll need wooden material, nourished."

And kept on with smithwork, his special engagement.

The Valar lived for more long ages

in complete bliss under the light

of the Two beloved blessed Trees

beyond the Mountains of Aman in sight.

The entire Middle Earth lay at that time

in twilight underneath the shining stars;

where before, under the Lamps so sublime

growth had commenced that ended in tears.

Vegetation life got abruptly severed,

as everything got back to black, disturbed,

yet the most ancient creatures persevered,

the seaweed algae and branched trees of Earth.

Creatures of darkness and grim force

lurked in the hills, surronded in gloom,

rarely did the Valar cross these shores,

save for Yavanna and Oromë who resumed

their mission on the spoiled land,

on the Broken Promise for the Spring of Arda

for which Yavanna mourned so vulnerable and

wholeheartedly determined to restore the order.

She put many living creatures in deep sleep,

so that they wouldn't grow prematurely old

hid them in lairs in the soil, warm and deep,

where they awaited to be awakened in the world.

Alas, at north Melkor surely did not slumber,

he gathered forces, watched and worked,

the evil life forms he had defiled in numbers,

in the sleepy wild forests raged and lurked.

He gathered the spirits that back in the days

of glory were forged in the pure essence of fire,

yet Melkor, having corrupted their ways,

clad them in clothing of darkness and wicked desire.

Their steps produced icy murderous terror,

in their hands - whips of devouring flames,

in Middle Earth they'd call them Balrogs in horror,

and many more creatures Melkor obtained.

His kindgom reached Middle Earth's South,

and vile monsters he unleashed to oppress,

he built a new fortress, its essence slough,

on the northwest shores so he could supress

any possible reaction on Aman's part;

there ruled Sauron, Melkor's assistant,

Angband they called the disgusting fort,

that tried to thwart all Light's resistance.

Yavanna and Oromë brougth the troubling news

from the Lands Beyond, so they gathered a concil,

Kementári spoke first, elaborating on the clues,

with fate and hope they could solve the issue of evil.

"Hear me, O, Lords of our dear Arda,

the vision of Ilúvatar lasted so briefly,

it was taken away abruptly from order,

so we don't know the details completely.

Yet one thing we know and it's for sure.

The Hour is approaching for the Children

of Eru to awaken in the Lands; when they do,

shall we leave them to a fate of their own?

Shall we leave their homes so hollow,

since they are inhabited by wicked beasts,

shall they live in darkness and follow

Melkor as their leader, as their chief?

While we abide in the light, in comfort

in a state sublime and enlightened,

while Manwë rules so triumphant

in Taniquetil; shall they exist frightened?"

Tulkas, with the superhero impetus,

called them all to step forth directly,

for he could find no solution or peace,

until Melkor was banished, heroically.

"It's time to go to immediate war!

Haven't we rested enough since the conflict?

We've gathered strenght anew, so let's start

a new battle to reclaim the Land and evict

Melkor, the fallen, the enemy,

who challenges our kingdom forever,

let's act now, may freedom be!

And may he be banished with all of the nether!"

At Manwë's request then spoke Mandos:

"It is said that Eru's Children will awaken

in this Epoch, they will enter the doors,

yet it is said that upon their animation

they shall first see the stars in the black atmosphere.

This will be their guiding light, their promise.

And if it happens they perceive a bighter light there,

this will be an omen for their doom and demise.

So let them receive their gift from their Father.

Let them receive the sidereal impression of the comic vault.

This is their designation, so we shouldn't bother

something set beyond our sphere of action and thought."

XI. Of the coming of the Elves and the captivity of Melkor

"This is why the Elves, in dire, heavy hours,

will call upon Varda for her guidance and help,

for she is the Creator of their favourite stars,

for them she's the Source of the Light of the Well."

Varda, so touched by that sentimental speech,

left the Concil of the Valar to look towards Middle Earth,

where, amid the darkness of the land, the skies were rich

of stars, so beautiful and pale, expecting Elven birth.

So Varda started crafting her new work of grace,

the greatest one upon the arrival of the Elohim here,

she took silver dew from Telperion's lakes

and created brighter stars for the Firstborns dear.

At first, when Eä was created,

Tintallë was Varda's surname,

yet a new one, Elentári, got equated

to it in the Elven language; famed.

In those days Varda wrought

many stars by her beloved:

Carnil and Luinil,

Nenar and Lumbar,

Alcarinquë and Elemmírë;

And many of the ancient ones

she gathered and she re-arranged

as signs across the heavens,

to guide Arda's bravest rangers.

Among them:

Telumendil and Soronúmë,

Wilwarin and Anarríma;

Also, Menelmacar, its core,

a shining belt it bore,

the Last Battle - foretelling

at the end of the days, overwhelming.

And high in the North, as a challenge to Melkor,

Varda put there the brilliance of the Elder,

by uplifting to wander in the skies

the crown of seven brilliant stars,

Valacirca,

the fateful Sickle

Love of the Valar,

or the helping star.

It is said that when Varda finalised her work

and Menelmacar started threading in the firmament,

when Helluin in blue fires began to spark,

in the mist at the border of the world determinant,

this was the Hour when the Children of Arda,

the Firstborns of Ilúvatar were launched on the Earth,

around the lake of Cuiviénen the Elves woke up,

in the Water of Awakening they were given birth.

They opened their eyes; unspeakable awe

The gift of the First Breath, awareness of life.

Grateful for being alive, the first thing they saw

were the stars of Varda in the black mystic sky.

They fell in love with that first impression, forever.

Varda, now called Elentári, the Queen of the Stars,

became their most favourite Valar, their eternal helper,

a guiding light in this world predestined to wars.

In the misadventures of this Earth the forms of the ground,

and the seas, and the landscape got many times reshaped,

so there's no turning back to Cuiviénen's sacred lands,

they are long gone in the story of their cataclysmic fates.

It is said among the Elves, that the lake used to be located

far to the north and east in Middle-Earth, beside a bay

of the inland Sea of Helcar, there the Firstborns awaited

came to being at the roots of Illuin, the mountain mislaid,

by Melkor, who cast it down, in his evil scheming,

and thus the topography cannot be retreived.

Only in the memories of the Firstborns reliving

the entrance in the world, when they were conceived.

Many waters flowed from the eastern highlands,

the first sound that the Elves heard was murmur of streams,

the clear song of droplets falling upon smooth stones,

giving them hope, faith for beauty and fulfillment of dreams.

They lived for a long time in their first home

around the waters under the starry vault,

they called themselves Quendi, or the ones

who could speak and sing and articulate aloud.

For they didn't find another being

that possessed the very same gift;

they walked around and called each thing

a name of its own that they later reminisced.

Oromë was riding east on his beloved stallion,

then he turned north along the shores of Helcar

and entered the shadow of the Eastern Mountain,

the Orocarni; yes, he always travellled so far.

Suddenly! - he overhead, a lot of voices, angelic,

he caught a glimpse of the Elves, unforeseen their visage,

the vision long awaited astonished him, authentic,

for what was predicted came to life so vivid in image.

The Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar were

back then far greater in glory and might,

than in all the following epochs, yet their

beauty never faded away; still so bright.

The Elves still live in the Lands of the West,

wisdom and grief evermore enrich their fairness.

And Oromë immediately fell in love, he'd invest

all of his protective merits to secure their wellness.

The hunter called the Elves "the Eldar",

the People of the Stars, beloved, pristine,

Yet only those who followed him west bear

that name, for some fled from the team.

For many of the Firstborns met him with horror;

Melkor was at fault for spreading the lie

that the Hunter abducted those who disappeared,

for some in small groups or alone had vanished from sight.

The Black Horseman rode a violent stallion,

chasing the ones who wandered so lost,

the legends of the Elves tell about this demon,

who'd cast shadows to captivate them at any cost.

This way the fallen Eholim deceived too many Children,

for they mistook Oromë for the evil creatures of Melkor,

too many fled to a destiny unknown, ending in the evil den,

while the noblest Elves distinguished the light of the Lord

in Oromë's dignified stature and pure brilliance,

clad in the Light itself, they perceived his good intent,

a lot of the Elves attracted by this magnificence,

believed that Oromë was benevolent in what he meant.

So when Nahar neighed, some instinctively ran away,

forever captured in the webs of the maleficent one,

but a lot of the beautiful Children chose to stay,

and followed the Rider to the path of Eru's plan.

A little is known of the deepest pits of Melkor,

but it is widely believed that he tortured the Elves,

in the black wells without hope for escaping these doors,

he scourged them till they turned ill, corrupted, unwell.

A lot of the sages in Eressëa believed

that these Children were twisted to orcs sworn,

for Melkor did not have the ability to conceive

life forms, so how else were these monsters born?

Among all deeds that Melkor did to wreak havoc,

this was the most twisted act, among all mayhem, ah!,

the most despised by Eru Ilúvatar, our God, the Empath,

the most repulsive, hated act to him: "Anathema!"

For what purpose did Eru allow

the suffering of his newborn Children?

Did he care not for them at all,

since he allowed this injustice to happen?

When the Firstborn opened their eyes,

they knew not fear, they just had a promise,

they knew not chains, they needed no lies,

no sin in their deeds to evoke karmic response.

The hand that would seize their innocence

and teach it agony instead of ways divine,

they did not know it; yet their fate commenced,

their souls and physical bodies got misaligned.

Taught agony without any prior instruction

that could feed their beings with enduring strength,

they were subjected to utter corruption,

to agony that knew no end, prolonged in length.

And in the darkest place of Arda, Utumno,

the newborn, clueless, were beaten beyond

comprehension, limitless, to decompose,

until every sense of divinity was gone.

At some point, before they got utterly lost,

rose the cry through every world and heaven:

Why did Eru Ilúvatar permit this, at what cost?

Didn't he care at all for his newborns?

If the Law of non-intervention

made it impossible for him to directly step in,

why didn't he at least give faint instructions,

something to prepare them for what would be?

Even the Valar can only second-guess,

whether the Elven souls had, inside, encoded

some sort of agreement for strangest progress

through martyrdom, although Eru loathed,

and he loathed the unnecessarity of evil,

of a pointless act of cruelty on those defenseless,

yet it must have been a Law of wisdom heavy,

since he launched the Elves entirely to sense it.

The Ein Sof, the Infinite beyond all names,

and Tzimtzum, the holy contraction, may know.

For the Infinite veiled Himself and its ways

to make room for beings to choose what they sow.

Had the Infinite filled all things openly,

no rebellion could breathe in the absolute Law,

no hatred could arise poisonously, brokenly,

but neither could love be free, compelled to withdraw.

So a space was granted for free will to exist,

where every creative action caused an effect,

where Co-Creators had to endure and resist

all of their misaligned consequences of neglect.

Within the distance from the sacred,

Melkor made his choice to disrespect,

even if hard, that meant for all the rest

to live empirically lessons that reflect.

Suffering, are you indispensable?

You aren't good, or are you for real?

Freedom is there, true, incomprehensible,

permitting wounds that take time to heal.

Tikkun, Oh, repair of brokenness,

not because the breaking itself is holy,

healing reveals depths of awareness

that gaze in the eyes of those broken ones only.

"As above, so below." Worlds mirror one another.

Good is inherently complete and balanced on its own.

Grand process of Creation allows pain to bother

because of testing the choice of the Self in dire time shown.

Chaotic destruction is not of the Law.

It can only disassemble meaninglessly in sequence.

And Eru... knew that the ultimate goal

is to forge the perfection through trials, with patience.

Every soul must awaken to its divine origin.

The darkness of Melkor was not a creative force.

Evil invents nothing, it parasites on reason,

where it can find vacant space to enter the doors.

Melkor could not make life, he could only deform it.

His torture, a brute force, revealed a weakness; ultimate.

For the Life Force is the Imperishable Flame and to source it

means to trust in God's way and learn how to wait.

Even in the deepest self- or outer- prison,

Veiled, buried and maybe forgotten,

the divine spark remains hidden,

never destroyed, already Begotten.

Yet could not Eru have prevented that corruption?

Could not Ein Sof have shattered the chains?

What lies underneath the lack of prior instruction?

Did he launch these Elves for mere anguish and pain?

Perhaps. Yet otherwise freedom itself

would cease to be the manna of freedom.

Overruling the choice of the created Selves

makes the beings shadows; nullus deorum.

And Eru remained silent, not from indifference.

Because his aeons are infinite, in the Cosmos prolonged.

In this horrific experience the Elves forged such endurance,

which eventually... would solidify their will so strong?

No one knows it all, but one thing is sure.

All is for the glory of Ilúvatar's Music,

inspiring life, the sacred, a cure,

while Melkor ... foolishly enthused it.

XI. Of the coming of the Elves and the captivity of Melkor

For a while longer Oromë stayed among the Firstborn,

then he rushed through plains and through seas,

to bring the exciting news to Valinor, as well as concern

for the fate of those who fled for no one to see.

And the Valar indeed rejoiced, yet perturbated,

for they wanted to protect the Quendi from the darkness,

and while they were counseling and although they debated,

Oromë immediately returned to the Elves, with alertness.

Manwë stood on top of Mount Taniquetil for a long while,

and in his thought he sought advice from his Father,

then he returned back to Valmar in an Elohimic style

and called there all Valar at the Ring of Doom, to gather.

Even Ulmo came from the faraway seas,

to the most fateful Concil of the Valar ever held,

and Manwë spoke with great expertise,

"Ilúvatar suggested that we act now and repel

Melkor from Arda, no matter what it takes us,

to regain the realm and free the Elves from the shadows,

to free the Quendi from the evil ones; this awaits us,

so do we decide to march forward and expel those?"

The suggestion made Tulkas very determined,

yet grief was born in Aulë's objective heart,

for he knew how much the world would be bothered

by this war that would just now start.

Yet the Valar prepared and departed from Aman,

very decisive, masculine, victorious and light,

no vengeance, just restoration in their plan,

for fighting with anger corrupts every just side.

The fortress of Melkor, once and for all,

would be destroyed to never be rebuilt greatly,

and the deceiver never forgot his fall

was caused for the sake of the Elven safety.

Yet the Elves took no part at all

in those battles decisive for their fate,

little have they witnessed to know or recall

about the crusade of the West back in the days.

Melkor affronted the strike of the Valar

in the northwest end of Middle Earth,

where everything faced destruction of war,

luckily, the Good force defeated those adverse.

The armies of Melkor fled to Utumno,

the servants of the evil lord hid in the thereabout dens,

and what happened next - who knows?

The Valar crossed entire Middle Earth; on Cuiviénen

they put Guards, and the Quendi witnessed not

what happened after in the Terrible Battle Almigthy,

save for the fact that the land underneath shook,

with waters raising high, with fires celestial, mighty.

The ambush of Utumno was long and tiresome,

many strategies applied, while preserving the balance

of the Absolute force, which surely requires some

knowledge on how to invest alchemy's lawful potency.

The forms of Middle Earth got reshaped.

The Vast Sea that separated it from Aman widened,

the wild waves digged a new gulf, escavated

in the south; and north's strait Helcaraxë cut the land.

It was exactly in this newly formed narrow of Helcaraxë

where Aman and Middle Earth drew nearest to each other;

among all these greatest was the Bay of Balar, the entrance

of the river of Sirion (from Dorthonion) to the sea there.

All the northern lands were made waste back then,

for there were dug the bottomless Utumno pits and wells,

full of fires and countless hosts of the servants

of Melkor, who turned the place to absolute hell.

At last! The gates of Utumno collapsed,

the halls of Melkor definitely crumbled,

so the fallen one hid in the deepest well, trapped,

and finally Tulkas knocked him down, humbled.

Angainor, the great unbreakable chain,

forged by the Vala Aulë to restrain fully Melkor,

was used by the Elohim to captivate the bane

and Peace on Earth reigned, remembering its lore.

XI. Of the coming of the Elves and the captivity of Melkor

Meanwhile, from his center of Creation,

Eru Ilúvatar observed Middle Earth with mercy,

deep within his heart of eternal patience

he bore sadness but knew it was worth it.

For seeing Melkor chained, he fathomed the reason

of his deviation in the initial twist,

for deep processes were encoded for those who listen

and the major one... to achieve to exist.

Divine dissatisfaction, rooted in alchemy.

The goal was to transmute the One, in design,

through existential transmutation of reality,

including malady and evil... unless he went Blind.

For before all existed... there was a vortex black,

not as a void, but the primordiality before light,

in pre-existence, before the Cube, the tesseract,

where He, who Entered, tried to achieve life.

High Intelligence dives in the unknown.

Where does such depth ... where does it lead?

For the three first ones have gone forlorn,

disintegrating at achievement, they didn't succeed.

Deprived of existence of their reality,

matter thrice fell apart to nothingness,

they lost potential Creation of eternality,

forevermore failing to recall the names.

The Fourth Demiurge attempting matter,

among the Nine Primary Deities beyond

the black edge that separates the water,

crossed, permitted, the threshold, now caused.

This shall be revealed! The Fourth attempt is Eru,

the All-Avatar being built through matter and forms,

the creator of the Cosmic substance, of Ea: "Ero

L'Avatar", the Illumination of the Spiralling norms.

And since Deus does not allow repetition,

and since it happened that the Ratio of Gold

shaped itself exactly in this attempt of completion,

even Sabaoth depended on the fourth attempt; yes, God.

For would there be another chance

to re-build the Merkaba, the Flower of Life?

No, this was the fourth and last one,

either the Cube or no eixstence, uncontrived.

For the Secret of Life's possibility

is encoded in the Absolute-Relative Pulse,

in the asymptotic approximation of infinity,

the Perfect Solution, Symmetry's Impulse.

Yes... God, the Trinitary Lense,

that diffracts the light, and combines us in atoms,

depends on Eru's victory or malchance,

for it was launched, trying to accomplish Adam.

Adam Kadmon, the ultimate form,

the toroidal field of the spheres within spheres,

and Melkor... had to choose wrong,

for evil's not of God and chases all lotuses.

AntiMetatronic codes, the rotten Key,

the breath of Molloch, the worm of Akuma,

the tower built entirely in order to annihilate

Eru Iluvatar, to devour and consume him.

To turn back to non-existence, unachieved.

The goal of the thing, the source of which unknown.

And... Eru... he ... wanted to live,

so he simply had to gather fragments and... transmute the One.

Melkor, a chosen vessel, he twisted the Music,

because he felt something deeper than chaos,

a twist that first went slow.. black cloud that fused it,

fused the alchemy, the Owwoch, the solution of Nous.

Yet for long aeons,... creatures would be destined

to feel the inevitabile experience of pain.

Nothing would be spared, for the mission attested

the completion of all sides of the plan.

"...Do you think I did it well, Child?"

That's what Iluvatar was thinking.

About the elves in the black deep wells.

The truth of life, the Source, the guide.

They weren't just sinking.

They were forging the bell.

The bell, the flame, the manna.

Vitalising essence, forever alive.

Yet... not constructed yet and it's gonna

take a while for Eru to ... survive.

Faith in the Aum, faith in Sacred Maths.

The Perfect Solution already created.

Yet... Deus Ex Machina sometimes lifts up...

so why not his own self, ...in case Eru failed?

Alas, the Valar didn't manage to find

all mighty caves, pits and dungeons,

hidden well from the sharpest sight,

below Utumno and Angband's tunnels.

A great amount of the evil projections

concealed their presence in those lairs,

the rest of them scattered in all directions

until the new hour of malice got prepared.

No one knew where Sauron fled, either.

But when the Battle was finally over,

clouds covered the stars, with the conceiver

being brought to Valinor, chained and covered.

Bandage blocked his eyes from vision,

for the eyes are portals where souls hold power,

and at the Ring of Destiny a decision

for Melkor's fate had to be taken; in that very Hour.

Hypocritically and without repentance,

Melkor lay before the feet of Manwë,

his deploration got rejected without vengeance,

he was imprisoned; escape stood no chance.

He was thrown in a Hall of Mandos,

where he had to reflect on his deeds.

For he would eventually have to choose

one of two paths that Redemption preceed.

No one could break out from there,

neither Vala, Elve  or simple men,

Melkor would wait for three epochs before

he could ask for forgiveness again.

The Valar gathered again to hold council.

Yet this time there was a fervent dispute.

One of them insisted that the Elves live

in Middle Earth, to heal all wounds and their roots,

aplenty exploring their gifts and their talents,

to wander in the Land that was promised to them,

yet some of the Valar questioned the chances

of evil's cunningness to mistreat the Quendi again.

So some Valar feared allowing the Elves to roam

in the vast dangers of a world unsecured, unsafe,

under the starry skies they called their first home,

besides the Valar their loving friendship craved.

Eventually, the Council of Elohim decided

to invite all the Quendi to live in Valinor,

under the Light of the Two Trees englightened,

to live there, together, fatefully ~ forevermore.

Silence came about, so Mandor uttered:

"Let it be so." And that call evoked

infinite troubles which caused Elves to suffer,

that in the Ages would slowly evolve.

Yet many of the Elves at first didn't listen,

as save for Oromë all Valar seemed ominous,

the Battle shaped the Elves' protective position,

for they feared the Almighty Ones' dominance.

So the Valar sent Oromë with a question,

to try to implore them to send a chosen few

to go to Valinor and gather impressions,

then if the rest liked to, to follow them out of will.

Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë were the ambassadors,

who would later become the first Elven Kings,

and when they arrived in the Sacred Land of Valinor,

they were filled by beautiful, rejoicing feelings.

They fell in love with the purity of the Two Trees,

so they yearned their presence and blessedness fair,

for what's temporarily felt doesn't always foresee

which choice is the right one and which brings despair.

Seemingly, the easy path may bring conviction

that comfort, bliss and even sacredness protect.

Yet... progression shifts circumstances, no prediction

can guarantee all sides that it wants to detect.

So... follow Eru's inner guidance, Elves,

in the epic journey, called Life.

Don't rush to return to the Well

from which you came to the other side.

Oromë returned the ambassadors in Cuiviénen,

where Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë with authority

told them all they had witnessed in Valinor's Heaven,

trying to convince them to move to the western territory.

This is how the first Elven segmentation commenced;

for most of the relatives of the three representatives

were touched by the words of their leaders, hence,

they were ready to follow Oromë due to the narratives.

Those who came after the Divine Hunter westwards

retained the name of Eldar, as Oromë had first called them,

while the ones who stayed in their natve lands

became the Avari, or the Unwilling who remained in Cuiviénen.

For long Epochs the two tribes got separated;

the Eldar prepared to launch on the expedition,

in three squads they were grouped with designated

leaders, the first one guided by Ingwë with ambition.

His people entered Valinor of the Almighty Ones,

their new blessed name, "the Vanyar", came forth,

the favourite Elves of Manwë and Varda's hearts,

those who never even looked back to Middle Earth.

Few or the mortals have ever talked to the Vanyar,

for they would remain in the lands of Valinor forever;

the second squad, of Finwë, was known as the Noldor;

the Deep Elves of Wisdom, Aulë's friends, endeavoured

in time so ancient to win heavy battles,

in the northern lands where they laboured;

the third clan, the Teleri, during the travels

reached the western shores and favoured

the freedom and the smell of the Seas,

they fell in love with the salty waters,

they desired to remain in the breeze

of the coastline, the marine explorers.

They were known as the Falmari in Aman,

as they sang in chorus with the surf of the sea,

they were so numerous, so their clan

had two Rulers, Elwë Singollo (Grey-cloak) and Olwë.

These are the three clans of the Elven Eldar,

who lived in the far west during the Epoch

of the Two Trees, the Calaquendi, the Elders,

the Elves of Light whose travel had luck.

Some other Eldar, who departed westwards,

didn't have such a success of their mission,

they got lost somewhere along the records

of Mandos' book of life who had other prevision.

The legends tell those were from the Teleri,

who either lived on the shores of Middle Earth, in quest,

or wandered in woods and mountains the eye can see,

whose hearts actually craved to reach the west.

Úmanyar, their saddening denomination,

as they didn't reach the Blessed Kingdom of Aman,

with the Avar they shared the same destination:

to be Moriquendi, Dark Elves, who had in common

the same fate of never seeing the Light

that existed before the Sun and the Moon;

there was a last group that felt fright

when Oromë rode on Nahar and as soon

as he passed to the north of the Sea of Helcar,

they turned further to the west, but far away

in the northern sky they saw reminiscence of war,

where no stars shone so they fled, didn't stay

for the hung vast black clouds scared them,

filled them with fear and with gloomy doubts,

they repented, turned back and it was then

when their trace got lost; unknown whereabouts.

Nothing is known of them to this very day.

They became strangers and missing, threatened.

Whenever they are, hearts always pray

that they found their place where they settled.

The march of the Eldar to the west was slow,

the Middle-Earth landscape marvelled with its vastness,

for the travel included pathless wilds and growth

of vegetation, hard to cross; besides, why hasteness?

The Elves were filled with wonder at what their eyes met,

at times they would desire to settle beside rivers, in the plains,

furthermore, certain fear in their sensitive hearts crept,

for though resolute, they had certain ultimate concerns.

Whenever Oromë temporarily left for unknown quests,

they would halt their journey, awaiting his return,

so the march had long periods of contemplation and rests,

the love for the gift of life and nature in them burned.

Eventually, the Eldar passed through a thick woodland,

and came out to discover the banks of a river, overwhelmed,

a vision they had never seen before, an expanse so grand,

and beyond it mountains so high they pierced the stars' realm.

Anduin the Great, the river was later named,

it would mark Middle-Earth's western borders,

even in those ancient days it flew there, chained

by Hithaeglir, Eriador's Misty Peaks, by the water.

In those days these mountauins were far more

fearsome to the sight, a menace, awe-provoking,

for Melkor had raised them to hinder Oromë,

to keep him at distance, while the battle was exploding.

The Teleri long abode upon those river banks,

with a yearning permanently to stay there,

yet the Vanyar and Noldor forgot not their plans,

and emabarked with Oromë on the future's affairs.

When the Hunter departed from the settlers,

the Teleri noticed the heights in solitude,

the obscure peaks filled them with cowardice,

so Elwë pushed them to chase the altitude.

Alas, from the host of Olwë an Elve separated,

he always strode in the rearmost ranks,

Lenwë his name; possibility to shine so waited;

so he led many others to follow their chance.

The group left the westward march,

they walked to the south along the River,

they got lost to their kin, in a search

of their own luck and faith downriver.

They'd be referred to as the Nandor, a unique clan,

a separate people with its own customs and ways,

dwelling by streams and flowing waters, they sang,

and among the Elves they knew best through the days

the nature of all living things; tree, grass and bird;

they had greatest knowledge of Yavanna's kingdom;

later Denethor, the Son of Lenwë, was given birth,

who set out westward again and abandoned his home.

His group of Elves reached bravely Beleriand,

across the mountains, even before the Moon

rose for the first time; yes, they reached that land,

that happened so early, so boldly, so soon.

The Vanyar and the Noldor crossed Ered Luin, in cohesion,

the Blue Mountains that divided Eriador's wide lands

from Beleriand, Middle-Earth's westernmost region,

reaching the Drengist and the Bay of Balar's sands.

When the Elves finally faced the Great Sea in person,

a lot of them turned back into the forests inland

and the highlands of Beleriand; so Oromë left them,

seeking Manwë's counsel, to make them understand.

The Teleri, led by Elwë Singollo (Thingol),

passed through the Misty Mountains,

their host crossed the vast Eriador; the goal -

to reach Valinor's Light and reigns.

For the leader of the host was ever eager

to return back to the Light once beheld;

he also felt a strong bond for the Noldor

and missed his friend Finwë; compelled.

After many years the Teleri too traversed

the Ered Luin into Beleriand's eastern lands,

they settled beside the river Gelion, enforced

a continuous break into their previous plans.

There was a notorious Maia,

a relative of the mighty Valar,

her name was Melian, her eyes a

spellbinding magic to admire.

She dwelt in the gardens of Lórien, singing,

no one else was there merrier, wiser or skilled

at the refined art of melody, air and chanting,

whoever heard her voice, got shaken and thrilled.

At the hour when the Lights got mixed,

Melian would start singing in the midst of Lórien,

the Valar abandoned their tasks and fixed

their gaze and audition; the world - auditorium.

The bells of Valmar would go silent,

the streams would turn completely still,

nightingales followed Melian, compliant,

and she taught them how to sing at will.

She had a preference for the dense shadows

of the forests, so chilly, profound and deep,

wherever she stepped, fresh turned all meadows,

and her voice caused all to smile and to weep.

She looked like Yavanna before Arda's Creation,

and after the Quendi awoke around native Cuiviénen,

the Melodious Maia left Valinor, for the Causation

of the pre-dawn silence with her ringing songs then.

When the journey of the Teleri approached its end,

the people remained for a long in Eastern Beleriand,

beyond the river Gelion; the fate of Elwë would extend

to paths unpredicted and myriads of wonders vibrant.

The Teleri were approaching the journey's end,

so they decided to rest for a while in East Beleriand,

beyond the River Gelion; while their Noldor friends

dwelt westward in the wood of Neldoreth and Region.

The Lord of the Teleri, Elwë, missed greatly

his friend Finwë of his kin's Noldor clan,

so he often went out in the forests, patiently,

in search of him in the depth of the land.

One fateful night he reached the Nan Elmoth forest,

where he overheard the song of nightingales.

He stood motionless under enchantment and stardust

sprinkled on his chest, he felt a slight tingle.

Far away, through the magical chirping of birds,

he could perceive a magical voice singing,

it filled his heart with longing when he heard

that strangest wonderous female chanting.

He forgot his purpose, his quest to find Finwë,

and he followed the birds in the chilly shadows,

lost in the thickness of Nan Elmoth, no way

out of it, no turning back to familiar meadows.

He came into an ethereal and starlit glade,

where he saw Melian for the first time,

upon her face shone Aman's light and blazed

a ray into his core, of love's elexir divine.

She didn't utter a world, a misterious apparition,

Elwë, enamoured, took her by the hand,

an enchantment came upon them; in that condition

they remained there till the trees tall came to stand.

The people of Elwë long sought him, everywhere,

no one could find him, forever was he gone,

so Olwë headed the command of the Elves; a heir

of his duties and strategies, to Aman onward drawn.

Elwë lived long through Middle-Earth's Ages,

yet never did he ultimately come to Valinor,

nor did Melian return there, they ruled as sages

with justice in the forests, bequeathing their lore.

From them came into the veins of Elves and Men

a measure of the blood of those Ainur who had been

with Ilúvatar before the making of Eä; back when

everything in the Universe was a vague blueprint.

Elwë would later become a notorious King,

his subordinates were the Eldar of Beleriand,

named the Sindar Elves, the Twilight Grey kin,

King Greycloak, Elu Thingol shielding the land.

His Queen Melian was the wisest creature

in the entire vast Middle-Earth's realm, immemorial,

her hidden halls were in Menegroth, deeper

than imaginable, in the Thousand Caves of Doriath.

Thingol was great among the Eldar,

and even greater the power of Melian,

he alone among all the race of the Sindar,

had seen the Two Trees in their brilliance.

For that though the was the Umanyar ruler,

he was not considered to be a Moriquendi, this Adar,

and from the love of Elwë and Melian in the future

were born the fairest of the Children of Ilúvatar.

The Vanyar and the Noldor, after a long time,

reached the Hither Lands' westernmost shores.

The northern coasts' westward-curved design

was separated from Aman only by a strait, so close.

Yet in those waters the bitter, poignant cold of Melkor

had filled the sea with drifting ice blocks and dangers,

so Oromë didn't lead the Eldar through the far north,

instead he guided them through Beleriand's fairness.

There the Eldar, with awe and with fear,

for the first time set eyes on the ocean,

bottomless, vast, wild, uncontrollably austere,

mysteriously melancholic, watery motion.

The Valar requested from Ulmo to speak

to the Eldar who were gazing by the abyss,

the King himself of the obscure bottomless pit,

a real vision, in flesh, proven to really exist.

Rarely Did Ulmo appear in his visible form,

seldom did he speak or make known his presence,

now by his wise words and mighty conch horn,

the Vala, through their souls' convalescence,

transformed their fright to yearning for the sea,

a deep nostalgic love of freedom mixed with longing;

then Ulmo uprooted a lonely island to turn it to a ship,

anchoring it in the Bay of Balar, to assist the Elves in crossing.

Where the waters of Sirion entered the sea,

the Vanyar and the Noldor boarded the vessel,

they sailed, reaching vastness for the eye to see

nothing else but water horizons at the surface level.

Finally! The shores beneath the Mountains of Aman,

legendary, they had seemed an impossible fable,

stood before their eyes, so real! Life anew began

when they entered the blessed Valinor fateful.

They were welcomed with joy in the Heaven of Gods,

meeting face to face the unseen Creators Almigthy.

What inexpressible, ineffable emotions and thoughts

uplifted the Eldar with an overwhelming mighty feel.