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.