1. Maglor's last word
The wound between us is the curse, o brother I've lost.
Like an outworn book, my own breast is torn,
On scales there 're too many victories and losses,
For the Court to appraise our unfinished work.
Up to elbow in blood, up to knees in the slough,
We were tearing the fetters, would dig into lips, -
In the name of single - but Triumphant - Love!
So the heart does embrace the steel, striking deep,
So of ashes up rise souls of flame-feathered birds,
So the star named Wormwood arouses the dead.
We're parted by the Naught . I beg pardon of yours.
On a letterless leaf the candle has melted .
Only Sea is so quiet as a welcoming home,
That will condone to you any sins, any crimes.
Listen! - gulls are singing in mist over foam,
Keeping on the poem from last broken lines.
We'll return - sometime - back to my Blessed Realm
One who swore must keep it up to his final moan,
We'll be back - in a rain, in starlight, in a dream -
Oh my care-worn brother, we'll come back to the Home!
I believe the Law will not be so blind
At the shore overseas, in my immortal lands.
But this flame saved from Darkness has turned too bright
For exhausted eyes and for your singed hands.
Dear, my way is behind. I've just stepped to the tide.
We're forgotten in ages that follow after us.
But it won't make this dolorous song to be light,
Never lighter, if you hold the Star in your palms.
.
Like an outworn book, my own breast is torn,
On scales there 're too many victories and losses,
For the Court to appraise our unfinished work.
Up to elbow in blood, up to knees in the slough,
We were tearing the fetters, would dig into lips, -
In the name of single - but Triumphant - Love!
So the heart does embrace the steel, striking deep,
So of ashes up rise souls of flame-feathered birds,
So the star named Wormwood arouses the dead.
We're parted by the Naught . I beg pardon of yours.
On a letterless leaf the candle has melted .
Only Sea is so quiet as a welcoming home,
That will condone to you any sins, any crimes.
Listen! - gulls are singing in mist over foam,
Keeping on the poem from last broken lines.
We'll return - sometime - back to my Blessed Realm
One who swore must keep it up to his final moan,
We'll be back - in a rain, in starlight, in a dream -
Oh my care-worn brother, we'll come back to the Home!
I believe the Law will not be so blind
At the shore overseas, in my immortal lands.
But this flame saved from Darkness has turned too bright
For exhausted eyes and for your singed hands.
Dear, my way is behind. I've just stepped to the tide.
We're forgotten in ages that follow after us.
But it won't make this dolorous song to be light,
Never lighter, if you hold the Star in your palms.
.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
