by Elatan-(Valar)
Feb. 2002

In happier days by the vales of the Gladden
fishing and swimming, with lust you were laden.
Life there was lost, one friend who went down
found the treasure, hidden, golden and round.
 
Beneath the high mountains the spirit crumpled and fell
to your deadly arms the Orcs tumbled forever to dwell.
Cold were the fish, of their blood you survived
inside the caves where shadows flicker and cry.

But into the dark your kin once did found
along the tunnels ever leading him further down.
Riddles and puzzles, out it would go
that Baggins, we hate him, from Hobbiton road.
 
Your tortured mind facing the Eye, staring so cold
never lost the hope for the Precious to hold.
Gave away in pain the name of the disastrous thief
set loose but wrecked in bewildered grief.
 
You chased and followed all through the lands
the servant and master for upon the Ring to lay hands.
To Mordor the dark and the mountain of Doom
where the evils do grow and the darkness gloom.
 
Now came your chance for the final release
biting the finger, at last I am in peace.
Earth was trembling and rocks falling down
you stumbled and fell, yet not to the ground.
 
But into the fire of the chambers so hot
the lifestring of Evil was suddenly cut.
Through pity and sorrow, of this we might learn
that only by mercy the glory we earn.