Welcome to the poetry page!
More character voices here...these are, respectively: Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, Merry, Galadriel, Theoden, Elrond, Brego, the Witch King, and Grima.......
of that which was strange
buried, alien, chilly, gemmed;
I have learned to descend
and breathe the untried air
and acclimate my eyes
to the richness of dark worlds
to see gardens, clouds, mansions,
fair hands, lanterns, dancers
far below the light; to dive
for pearls where water is not,
to drift and dream in wakeful splendor,
wishing not to rise until
my heart has been filled with colors
the sun has never touched
and revel in the leafless glory
that has been hidden
from every star.
And I have learned the freshness
of that which once was acrid,
foreign, barricaded, aloof;
I have learned to ascend
and stretch in your untried shine
and acclimate my soul
to the richness of your valor
to hear poetry, longing, bells,
laughter, history, praises
melded in the fore, to smile
in the fluency of our walking,
two beings who once stood at blade's edge
wishing not to cross into
the spheres of each other's glowering
but now bear friendship's colors
and rejoice in the distant singing
of waves that shall bear us
to chambers yet unknown.
~*~Side by Side~*~
What about side by side with a friend?
Aye, I could do that.
What more can I say
of the one thing yet unknown
to me? This time
I think he'll win.
And here I am
side by side with you
and if it is to be
as someday it must
then surely there are
worse ways to die.
Better than to wither
away with cold age
in a shivering bed
crumbling and blurred
or to succumb to the fury
of ravaging disease
that seeks to level
all vestiges of character
with the relentless shafts
of pain and madness
or to fall into the pits
of senseless accident
or folly. Aye, if Death
must come, and so it must,
to all who be mortal
and some who are not
then there are worse ways
than to fall fighting
side by side with a friend
I can do that.
True, I'll never know
the joys of wife and fireside
of watching the bairns
roll and laugh on the hearth
while the bread bakes sweetly
and the rain falls unheeded
on the golden thatch
and the panes of round windows;
such is not for the likes of me.
But, so be it. I laugh
at the face Death shows me now;
warrior that I am, thinks he
that he can stare me down?
Let him do his worst!
I spit at him.
I bite my thumb. I sneer!
Which is not to say
I face him without fear
and mortal trepidation
not merely of the spear
that skewers me through
or the axe that hews
the flesh off my bones
like the bark from a tree
or the fire that may roast me
as a pheasant on a spit;
but also of the unknown
that already looms above
as a purple shapeless cloud
with all blackness behind.
I'll not lie and say
I face these things without
a qualm, without regret
without a secret wish
to plead for more time.
I say only that there be
worse ways, if one must die
than this, knowing
the fate of the entire world
lies in my keeping, as a golden
lock of hair, and I
have been chosen to stand
side by side with friends.
I was born for this. I wish
only that I might know
what is to come after, and
if I shall revel in the prospect
of endless peace and light
or if I shall secretly long
for the savor of smoke and blood
that I have known here.
But I should not wonder;
I should only rejoice
in the knowledge
that if I must die
then I will fall side by side
with companions who have moved in
their arms and hearts linked
irrevocably with mine.
Very well, I shall rejoice
if I must.
This I can do!
So...what are we waiting for?
Why can't I help you?
The city is on fire,
or so it seems
it's raining rocks
and a crazy man has you
where I can't reach.
He cast you from his sight
and poisoned you
from a distance
and now he won't even
let us save you!
Would that I could climb
to where you are
and rekindle your fire
as I lit the beacon
that once brought us aid.
Now you are where
at last we can see you
yet you still seem
so far out of reach.
Where are you now?
Where are you going?
Don't you know
the King is here?
Can't you see we wish
to have you back,
heal your burned skin
and see your face
shining once more
as it shone on me,
a small, lost stranger
on a white and chilly hill
warmed by your smiling words
would that I could
return that sunlight
to you!
Maybe your brother
and your mother want you
with them, and you wish
to stay. I can't blame you
for that. But I would
that they could spare you
to us a while longer.
They've all eternity
to have you, we only
have a little space, and
your line is too fine
to be broken. Please,
come back and be
a high and bright glory
to heal a bleeding land
and let us lay our heads
on your shoulders
and be your family now.
We'll be kind,
I promise......
Please come back.......
Our ride is ended, my Lady.
Once belittled, left behind,
unmatched except in spirit
and shame and loss and love;
Shield-maiden they named you
and I Esquire, we went
where no man might tread,
into a black channel
of no true return, where
we laid low a foe we both
had ample reason to smite
with our whole beings
and he took a sizable piece
of us with him in his fall,
and we of him in our rise,
though wanting it not.
Side by side, we sang
a painful conterpoint;
your theme being hero's death
my own, ascent and victory.
And as our voices marched
so did our hearts
joined as only brothers
and sisters in arms
could ever be.
But now is that bond loosed?
I see you stand once more
as a tree I cannot climb
or as a player on a stage
in a drama too high for me
to join, but can only sit
watching in rapt silence
from the front row, and now
I see a Man beside you
who needs not lean backward
to look into your eyes, and
the glow in his own comes
from no flickering footlight.
A fair pair indeed you make.
But would you think me
truly absurd if I said
that I would speak his lines
and stroll in his boots?
Am I but your foot-page
now? Sometimes I would
sooner hear your loved voice
calling me enemy than friend
feel your hand strike me down
rather than caressing my own
in smiling sisterhood....
Why must my voice now
reach so low? why must I
always be left behind?
My Lady,
have you forgot our ride?
To bear a ring of power
is to be alone......and yet
in aloneness is growth;
to diminish is to know
the peace of home
and even breathing.
Thrusting is all.
You gaze into the pool
of knowledge, and see
your own face swollen
your eyes as cups of rain
the warping of your smile
cracks the window
of shivering innocence.
For the path of striving
no map has been drawn
you outline it with
the ink of your veins
and with every cut
you gain the sky
which grows ever closer
as you pierce its mystery
and the trees become
mere stalks at your feet.
You make counselors of stars
but lose all humble flowers.
In your swamp of solitude
you learn to float, or sink
into the dragging mire
where tempting shapes
show claws of black charity.
But if you will, you may climb
to a luminous platform
no other can reach
and all cities look up waiting
for you to rename their streets
replant their fields
and teach their armies
the patterns of victory
until they praise with one accord
the importance of your size.
And you wonder why
you were born for this,
why the weight of a planet
dangles in your keeping.
I can but tell you:
your growing is so that
others may retain
the sweetness that is born
of standing no higher
than the swinging gate
of earthly dreams.
Let them walk blindly
between your feet
thinking your tears
are summer rain.
Someday you will know
once more the joy
of smallness thousandfold
as your burden crashes
into a fiery chasm
and friends
are the true stars
that will kiss your face to rest.
~*~Orphan Eyes~*~
For Farawyn....:):):)
In your sea-colored eyes
I see the stillness that follows
the storm which has wrecked
a craft too new and unformed
to be yet sea-worthy.
I hear neither cry nor reproach
nor pleading, nor questions;
I see only depths unfathomable,
as you stand with furled hair,
with clenched hands and heart
staring down at white flowers
scattered over silent mounds
that rise and flow in grassy billows
far and wide. Your world
now lies therein, a sunken treasure:
silver, gold, pearls, riddles
gleaming galleons,
stilled ballads, vanished legends
which I alone discern
in the bottomless wells
of your unseeing eyes. In mute abandon
they ask of their King:
Why did she leave me?
Why would she follow
my father into the deep?
My need surely
was greater than his.
A girl caught between
child and woman
has sorest need
of mother's counsel.
Was she disappointed
in her wild lass
who found her greater joy
in the song of her quick blade
and racing her brother
on wind-glazed plains
than in learning the dry arts
of household matters?
Whose eyes will smile
upon me now as I reach
with upturned face and hands
to catch the bright rain
of maidenly blessings?
And what boon now
can your King grant
stricken before a sister
once tall and singing, stilled
by death's favorless lust?
How can he cast hopeful blossoms
into your orphaned eyes
when they wither
at his slightest touch?
He can but try
to guide your feet
to their truest palace
among the great ones
who may instruct you
in the ways of valor
and renewal, and hope
time may teach you
to smile once more
and unearth fresh treasures
so an old man might call you daughter
and find his true royalty
in the sunlit tide
of your sea-colored eyes.
~*~Elrond's Farewell~*~
You dance tall in a shaft of joy
that magnifies your beauty
thousandfold, your bridal gems
as dewdrops on a glowing rose
taking voices in the concord
of your light. You hover
as a single planet that stars
scarcely dare approach
and I can but engrave the image
upon the stark and aching
vessel that is my heart,
to preserve it through
countless ages bereft
of your motion and bliss.
Newborn, you emerged
as the glimmer of a perfect eon;
at your first smile I saw
the spark of infinity
and careless majesty
and ineffable longing
in your star-stippled eyes
but also a universe of blades
piercing my fatherhood
for the duration of my breathing.
My heart was a fragile pitcher
balanced on your shoulder
as you whirled and capered
in your maiden dance, holding
it with negligent tenderness until
another came and took your hand
then finally unwilling
you let me fall
as I always knew I should.
And now we part for eternity,
and all I have left
is the painted glory
and the small solace
of your happiness
to hold in my damaged arms.
So must it ever be, as you
will learn for yourself, my daughter;
although I would have spared you,
you would have none. Your feet
now bleed as they step
on my shards, yet your dance
goes on, as I would have it so
as long as it may. Each piece
glows with pride in your courage,
yet burns with the knowledge
that someday you will be
as I am now, lying shattered
in the intricate wake
of heedless feet above you.
~*~Brego~*~
I know I will find him.
I had not run far afield
shortly after he set me free
when I heard his voice afresh
whose sweet notes had released me
from my flaming cage of madness:
arrows of music, wind and water,
softly rumbling thunder,
breath of trees, wings of peace.
He is gone I know not where
still his words as tender vines
twine around my battered heart
leaking solace, cleansing heat
breathing life to every limb
healer-friend, I will find you
the spirit of the wind shall guide me
with a bridle of sky and warm grass
caressing my mane with urgent fingers
the spirit of the earth laughs to me
lips of encouragement kiss my bones
the spirit of the river sings
a dance-song of hope and swiftness
the spirit of the stars shines for me
sweeping the shadows from my path
the spirit of the clouds weeps to me
fragrant tears to cool my fever
I will come, sweet healer-king
I am here, waken to me
we shall be as one forever
and I will love you into victory.
~*~The Witch King~*~ Indestructable, I stand
as I have endured all ages,
neither living nor dead
but something far beyond
your pitiful flesh,
a parchment tent
one small arrow can breech.
What catapult can level
the fortress of my blackness?
Evil, you call me
quivering at my iron feet
you think yourself mighty
but I will break you
before the pale syllables
can escape your lips
like mice that flee
at the faintest rumble.
I tell you now,
you know not what evil is.
You only think you can name the Shadow.
When I have claimed you
and feasted on your futile beauty
sucked the glory from your bones
drunk your singing valor
strung your tears into a chain
and fettered your ashen soul to mine,
you will tread in my steps
stumbling and adoring
happy to obey.
You will hunt for me
and fetch me shining beings
who are as you once were
and shall be as you are now
then you will curl at my feet
and lick my fingers
after I fling you a scrap or two
and kick you at my whim.
You will spit and snarl
at those fool enough
to attempt your deliverance
if such there be.
Then you will fathom
the true reach of my despair
and glory in our oneness
knowing that it will be
for all eternity.
~*~Outcast~*~I am without wordsÂ….
There they stand, thousand
upon thousand. A chant arises
from the bowels of the void
its rhythm chilling
the dance of my blood.
From whence do they come?
How deeply did you ravage
the innocent earth to spawn
this heinous brood?
How came I to scale this stair?
How can a tower
point into the abyss?
I would flee, but the floor
beneath me slides away
the doors slam around me
of their own accord.
There is no going back.
I am a prisoner
in obsidian madness....
how did I come to this?
Once, many selves ago,
I walked a wholesome valley
but of its fragrance and milky steeds
I grew weary, forsaking it all
in hopes of height and pungent fare.
Power was mine, for a sweet season.
I brought it down, plucked its wings
tasted its raw and gamy savor
ripping it from the bones, insatiable
letting the blood seep down my chin
to blotch my lush garments
beyond recall, my ears deaf
to the clamor of its young.
Awakened, I saw cool beauty
blossom across my path
but when I reached to pluck it
it stung my eager hand
its icy nectar blinding me,
and so I let my wasted heart
evolve into stone, lest it break
and I die upon the rubble.
Now I am cast out
like filthy water at your feet
and with my purged eyes
I see your white disease
in the wreckage of your genius.
You, who once unveiled
your blazing wares before me
saying, "In return, I require
naught but your soul!"
I complied, to no avail.
It's useless to you now
but you would not refund it
however much I begged...
But, perhaps there is a way.
I am dust now in your sight
but even dust may prove deadly
and a worm may turn. A mere blade
could slice the frail binding
and recover the treasure
you tore from me; my soul
could be mine once more.
It could happen.
Ah, yes....
Literature Index | Arwen | Aragorn | Frodo | Gandalf | Sam | Eowyn | Boromir & Faramir
Welcome to the poetry page!
More character voices here...these are, respectively: Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, Merry, Galadriel, Theoden, Elrond, Brego, the Witch King, and Grima.......
of that which was strange
buried, alien, chilly, gemmed;
I have learned to descend
and breathe the untried air
and acclimate my eyes
to the richness of dark worlds
to see gardens, clouds, mansions,
fair hands, lanterns, dancers
far below the light; to dive
for pearls where water is not,
to drift and dream in wakeful splendor,
wishing not to rise until
my heart has been filled with colors
the sun has never touched
and revel in the leafless glory
that has been hidden
from every star. And I have learned the freshness
of that which once was acrid,
foreign, barricaded, aloof;
I have learned to ascend
and stretch in your untried shine
and acclimate my soul
to the richness of your valor
to hear poetry, longing, bells,
laughter, history, praises
melded in the fore, to smile
in the fluency of our walking,
two beings who once stood at blade's edge
wishing not to cross into
the spheres of each other's glowering
but now bear friendship's colors
and rejoice in the distant singing
of waves that shall bear us
to chambers yet unknown.
~*~Side by Side~*~
What about side by side with a friend?
Aye, I could do that.
What more can I say
of the one thing yet unknown
to me? This time
I think he'll win.
And here I am
side by side with you
and if it is to be
as someday it must
then surely there are
worse ways to die.
Better than to wither
away with cold age
in a shivering bed
crumbling and blurred
or to succumb to the fury
of ravaging disease
that seeks to level
all vestiges of character
with the relentless shafts
of pain and madness
or to fall into the pits
of senseless accident
or folly. Aye, if Death
must come, and so it must,
to all who be mortal
and some who are not
then there are worse ways
than to fall fighting
side by side with a friend
I can do that.
True, I'll never know
the joys of wife and fireside
of watching the bairns
roll and laugh on the hearth
while the bread bakes sweetly
and the rain falls unheeded
on the golden thatch
and the panes of round windows;
such is not for the likes of me.
But, so be it. I laugh
at the face Death shows me now;
warrior that I am, thinks he
that he can stare me down?
Let him do his worst!
I spit at him.
I bite my thumb. I sneer!
Which is not to say
I face him without fear
and mortal trepidation
not merely of the spear
that skewers me through
or the axe that hews
the flesh off my bones
like the bark from a tree
or the fire that may roast me
as a pheasant on a spit;
but also of the unknown
that already looms above
as a purple shapeless cloud
with all blackness behind.
I'll not lie and say
I face these things without
a qualm, without regret
without a secret wish
to plead for more time.
I say only that there be
worse ways, if one must die
than this, knowing
the fate of the entire world
lies in my keeping, as a golden
lock of hair, and I
have been chosen to stand
side by side with friends.
I was born for this. I wish
only that I might know
what is to come after, and
if I shall revel in the prospect
of endless peace and light
or if I shall secretly long
for the savor of smoke and blood
that I have known here.
But I should not wonder;
I should only rejoice
in the knowledge
that if I must die
then I will fall side by side
with companions who have moved in
their arms and hearts linked
irrevocably with mine.
Very well, I shall rejoice
if I must.
This I can do!
So...what are we waiting for?
Why can't I help you?
The city is on fire,
or so it seems
it's raining rocks
and a crazy man has you
where I can't reach.
He cast you from his sight
and poisoned you
from a distance
and now he won't even
let us save you!
Would that I could climb
to where you are
and rekindle your fire
as I lit the beacon
that once brought us aid.
Now you are where
at last we can see you
yet you still seem
so far out of reach.
Where are you now?
Where are you going?
Don't you know
the King is here?
Can't you see we wish
to have you back,
heal your burned skin
and see your face
shining once more
as it shone on me,
a small, lost stranger
on a white and chilly hill
warmed by your smiling words
would that I could
return that sunlight
to you!
Maybe your brother
and your mother want you
with them, and you wish
to stay. I can't blame you
for that. But I would
that they could spare you
to us a while longer.
They've all eternity
to have you, we only
have a little space, and
your line is too fine
to be broken. Please,
come back and be
a high and bright glory
to heal a bleeding land
and let us lay our heads
on your shoulders
and be your family now.
We'll be kind,
I promise......
Please come back.......
Our ride is ended, my Lady.
Once belittled, left behind,
unmatched except in spirit
and shame and loss and love;
Shield-maiden they named you
and I Esquire, we went
where no man might tread,
into a black channel
of no true return, where
we laid low a foe we both
had ample reason to smite
with our whole beings
and he took a sizable piece
of us with him in his fall,
and we of him in our rise,
though wanting it not.
Side by side, we sang
a painful conterpoint;
your theme being hero's death
my own, ascent and victory.
And as our voices marched
so did our hearts
joined as only brothers
and sisters in arms
could ever be.
But now is that bond loosed?
I see you stand once more
as a tree I cannot climb
or as a player on a stage
in a drama too high for me
to join, but can only sit
watching in rapt silence
from the front row, and now
I see a Man beside you
who needs not lean backward
to look into your eyes, and
the glow in his own comes
from no flickering footlight.
A fair pair indeed you make.
But would you think me
truly absurd if I said
that I would speak his lines
and stroll in his boots?
Am I but your foot-page
now? Sometimes I would
sooner hear your loved voice
calling me enemy than friend
feel your hand strike me down
rather than caressing my own
in smiling sisterhood....
Why must my voice now
reach so low? why must I
always be left behind?
My Lady,
have you forgot our ride?
To bear a ring of power
is to be alone......and yet
in aloneness is growth;
to diminish is to know
the peace of home
and even breathing.
Thrusting is all.
You gaze into the pool
of knowledge, and see
your own face swollen
your eyes as cups of rain
the warping of your smile
cracks the window
of shivering innocence.
For the path of striving
no map has been drawn
you outline it with
the ink of your veins
and with every cut
you gain the sky
which grows ever closer
as you pierce its mystery
and the trees become
mere stalks at your feet.
You make counselors of stars
but lose all humble flowers.
In your swamp of solitude
you learn to float, or sink
into the dragging mire
where tempting shapes
show claws of black charity.
But if you will, you may climb
to a luminous platform
no other can reach
and all cities look up waiting
for you to rename their streets
replant their fields
and teach their armies
the patterns of victory
until they praise with one accord
the importance of your size.
And you wonder why
you were born for this,
why the weight of a planet
dangles in your keeping.
I can but tell you:
your growing is so that
others may retain
the sweetness that is born
of standing no higher
than the swinging gate
of earthly dreams.
Let them walk blindly
between your feet
thinking your tears
are summer rain.
Someday you will know
once more the joy
of smallness thousandfold
as your burden crashes
into a fiery chasm
and friends
are the true stars
that will kiss your face to rest.
~*~Orphan Eyes~*~
For Farawyn....:):):)
In your sea-colored eyesI see the stillness that follows
the storm which has wrecked
a craft too new and unformed
to be yet sea-worthy.
I hear neither cry nor reproach
nor pleading, nor questions;
I see only depths unfathomable,
as you stand with furled hair,
with clenched hands and heart
staring down at white flowers
scattered over silent mounds
that rise and flow in grassy billows
far and wide. Your world
now lies therein, a sunken treasure:
silver, gold, pearls, riddles
gleaming galleons,
stilled ballads, vanished legends
which I alone discern
in the bottomless wells
of your unseeing eyes.
In mute abandon
they ask of their King:
Why did she leave me?
Why would she follow
my father into the deep?
My need surely
was greater than his.
A girl caught between
child and woman
has sorest need
of mother's counsel.
Was she disappointed
in her wild lass
who found her greater joy
in the song of her quick blade
and racing her brother
on wind-glazed plains
than in learning the dry arts
of household matters?
Whose eyes will smile
upon me now as I reach
with upturned face and hands
to catch the bright rain
of maidenly blessings?
And what boon now
can your King grant
stricken before a sister
once tall and singing, stilled
by death's favorless lust?
How can he cast hopeful blossoms
into your orphaned eyes
when they wither
at his slightest touch?
He can but try
to guide your feet
to their truest palace
among the great ones
who may instruct you
in the ways of valor
and renewal, and hope
time may teach you
to smile once more
and unearth fresh treasures
so an old man might call you daughter
and find his true royalty
in the sunlit tide
of your sea-colored eyes.
~*~Elrond's Farewell~*~
You dance tall in a shaft of joy
that magnifies your beauty
thousandfold, your bridal gems
as dewdrops on a glowing rose
taking voices in the concord
of your light. You hover
as a single planet that stars
scarcely dare approach
and I can but engrave the image
upon the stark and aching
vessel that is my heart,
to preserve it through
countless ages bereft
of your motion and bliss.
Newborn, you emerged
as the glimmer of a perfect eon;
at your first smile I saw
the spark of infinity
and careless majesty
and ineffable longing
in your star-stippled eyes
but also a universe of blades
piercing my fatherhood
for the duration of my breathing.
My heart was a fragile pitcher
balanced on your shoulder
as you whirled and capered
in your maiden dance, holding
it with negligent tenderness until
another came and took your hand
then finally unwilling
you let me fall
as I always knew I should.
And now we part for eternity,
and all I have left
is the painted glory
and the small solace
of your happiness
to hold in my damaged arms.
So must it ever be, as you
will learn for yourself, my daughter;
although I would have spared you,
you would have none. Your feet
now bleed as they step
on my shards, yet your dance
goes on, as I would have it so
as long as it may. Each piece
glows with pride in your courage,
yet burns with the knowledge
that someday you will be
as I am now, lying shattered
in the intricate wake
of heedless feet above you.
~*~Brego~*~
I know I will find him. I had not run far afield
shortly after he set me free
when I heard his voice afresh
whose sweet notes had released me
from my flaming cage of madness:
arrows of music, wind and water,
softly rumbling thunder,
breath of trees, wings of peace.
He is gone I know not where
still his words as tender vines
twine around my battered heart
leaking solace, cleansing heat
breathing life to every limb
healer-friend, I will find you
the spirit of the wind shall guide me
with a bridle of sky and warm grass
caressing my mane with urgent fingers
the spirit of the earth laughs to me
lips of encouragement kiss my bones
the spirit of the river sings
a dance-song of hope and swiftness
the spirit of the stars shines for me
sweeping the shadows from my path
the spirit of the clouds weeps to me
fragrant tears to cool my fever
I will come, sweet healer-king
I am here, waken to me
we shall be as one forever
and I will love you into victory.
~*~The Witch King~*~ Indestructable, I stand
as I have endured all ages,
neither living nor dead
but something far beyond
your pitiful flesh,
a parchment tent
one small arrow can breech.
What catapult can level
the fortress of my blackness?
Evil, you call me
quivering at my iron feet
you think yourself mighty
but I will break you
before the pale syllables
can escape your lips
like mice that flee
at the faintest rumble.
I tell you now,
you know not what evil is.
You only think you can name the Shadow.
When I have claimed you
and feasted on your futile beauty
sucked the glory from your bones
drunk your singing valor
strung your tears into a chain
and fettered your ashen soul to mine,
you will tread in my steps
stumbling and adoring
happy to obey.
You will hunt for me
and fetch me shining beings
who are as you once were
and shall be as you are now
then you will curl at my feet
and lick my fingers
after I fling you a scrap or two
and kick you at my whim.
You will spit and snarl
at those fool enough
to attempt your deliverance
if such there be.
Then you will fathom
the true reach of my despair
and glory in our oneness
knowing that it will be
for all eternity.
~*~Outcast~*~I am without wordsÂ….
There they stand, thousand
upon thousand. A chant arises
from the bowels of the void
its rhythm chilling
the dance of my blood.
From whence do they come?
How deeply did you ravage
the innocent earth to spawn
this heinous brood?
How came I to scale this stair?
How can a tower
point into the abyss?
I would flee, but the floor
beneath me slides away
the doors slam around me
of their own accord.
There is no going back.
I am a prisoner
in obsidian madness....
how did I come to this?
Once, many selves ago,
I walked a wholesome valley
but of its fragrance and milky steeds
I grew weary, forsaking it all
in hopes of height and pungent fare.
Power was mine, for a sweet season.
I brought it down, plucked its wings
tasted its raw and gamy savor
ripping it from the bones, insatiable
letting the blood seep down my chin
to blotch my lush garments
beyond recall, my ears deaf
to the clamor of its young.
Awakened, I saw cool beauty
blossom across my path
but when I reached to pluck it
it stung my eager hand
its icy nectar blinding me,
and so I let my wasted heart
evolve into stone, lest it break
and I die upon the rubble.
Now I am cast out
like filthy water at your feet
and with my purged eyes
I see your white disease
in the wreckage of your genius.
You, who once unveiled
your blazing wares before me
saying, "In return, I require
naught but your soul!"
I complied, to no avail.
It's useless to you now
but you would not refund it
however much I begged...
But, perhaps there is a way.
I am dust now in your sight
but even dust may prove deadly
and a worm may turn. A mere blade
could slice the frail binding
and recover the treasure
you tore from me; my soul
could be mine once more.
It could happen.
Ah, yes....
Literature Index | Arwen | Aragorn | Frodo | Gandalf | Sam | Eowyn | Boromir & Faramir