Never again shall you tread,
the brown plains of Middle Earth,
nor grace Imladris of a presence.
For In Lothlorien is your rest.
Never again shall you see,
the smiling golden orb,
that rises from the Doors of the East
and dips to the Gates of the West.
Never again shall you feel,
the splattering of tiny hands
of when these clouds would weep.
Long was your time,
Yet it has found an end.
The Age of Men now reigns.
The Age of the Eldar now dwells,
Into forgotten histories of Men.
Into the Twilight, You fade,
Separate from Love and from Kin.
Sealed by choices long made,
Your long rest was a different Fate.