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.