Author's Note: This poem came to me today and I felt like writing it down. So here it is, and there you are, and that is that.

Not Going Anywhere

And here I am,
Stuck
For the last time
Between the tree and the spear,
Not going anywhere.

Because in the old days,
Gwindor,
He was a tree,
Alive, growing, spreading,
And he loved me.

And in the new days,
Túrin,
He was a spear,
Swift and true and deadly,
And he loved me.

And there I was,
Stuck
Between tree and spear,
As now, for eternity,
Not going anywhere.