8. drabble Silmarillion
(red sky at morning, sailor take warning…)
The beating of swan-wings opened his heart to the soul of the sea.
Standing wave-girt on the strand, he embraced both brother and fate, and passed through the Mountains of Shadow.
Hope stopped at seven gates, whispering a secret name to each - but even the voice of a god could not make them believe. Darkness burrowed beneath the ivory walls; a mole in Gondolin’s garden. Soon the White Tree’s golden flowers would fall, ragged petals like tears flowing down Sirion’s face.
But before he followed the swans-wing home, the sea sparkled and gave birth to the evening star.
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