An Edain warrior loved an elven maiden in the First Age. He fell in battle, and though she made a grave for him, keeping the string of pearls he had given her, the elf forgot him in the passing of Time. The mortal laments from beyond the grave, soul trapped within Arda...
Oh, my love; lonely is the grave.
Keep the gift that the water gave:
Silver pearls, buried once in sand;
Thread them now on a golden strand.
Once I laughed, and again you sang;
Sunlight danced, and all the shadows rang.
Now the moon shines icy on your face,
Withered flowers, torn and tattered lace.
Tall oaks grow where you laid my grave,
Left me cold in the whispering shade.
Oh my love, as you turn away,
Silver pearls bleed silent into gray.
Autumn comes, and all the swaying trees
Rusty shine, and all their sighing leaves
Paint the world in splendor, I was told;
I see blood, crimson, never gold.
Gray rain falls, quenching all the light,
Red leaves drown in the wild, endless night.
Formless candles twine a crown for me;
King of sorrow, lord of memory.
Years run on, swifter than the day
I first saw the singing shadows play
Copper-gold, the fire hanging there:
Light was caught forever in your hair.
This is my first time writing anything romantic in nature, so please tell me what you think of it. It's also my first poem in this particular meter, and the strangest, and maybe saddest thing I've ever written...
To Sauron Gorthaur: I was really going to write a poem about Sauron for you, I was! But this got in the way. So sorry. That's my next order of business in the poetry department.:)
~RandomCelt, who is not Tolkien, no matter how much she wishes she owned his works...