Yet such was the cunning of Sauron, and the strength of his hidden will, that ere three years had passed, he bacame close to the councils of the king...And Sauron spoke to the king, saying that his strength was so great, he need not be subject to the ban of the Valar. Then the king harkened to Sauron...and in those days the fleets of the Numenoreans blackened the waters west of the land...and Sauron withdrew to the inmost circles of his dark temple. (Akallabêth)


Once he laughed,

In his dark hall-

In Númenór

The lord of all.

-o-

Twice he laughed,

For weak-willed men

Who fell, became

His servants then.

-o-

Thrice he laughed,

The shadows rang-

Though Doom upon

a thread should hang.

-o-

A final time

Would he have laughed?

But then Doom fell-

An iron shaft.

-o-

And Meneltarma

Seemed to frown

On Sauron Gorthaur,

Sinking down.

-o-

He guessed not

The Valar's wrath,

Though long we walked

His Master's path...

-o-

Until the Void

Of Morgoth's crown

Claimed Sauron Gorthaur-

Striding down.


*Breaths big breath* There! This one has been in the works for a while. This was somewhat inspired by Sauron Gorthaur's Poem about the downfall of Númenór. If you liked this at all, you should read it. Epic!

As always, reviews make me very happy, because believe DarthMihi, you don't want me unhappy...And for the last time, I am NOT Tolkien! ;)

~RandomCelt