Lament of Arwen

by Laurelin Caline 
July 25, 2003

 I dwelt in Lórien, and in Imladris too.
There I tarried all my youth,
 but 3,000 years is over ‘over due’.
In Imladris dwelt my father of truth,
And my mother of silver light in Lothlórien, but they will soon be
dwelling in a land far away, beyond the sea.
 But you I met in the woods at night,
bearing the song of long ago.
 When you saw me, Lady delight,
you thought me to indeed be her:
of whom you were singing, but I was whom you saw; you saw me.
I then declared to you my doom: it to be in the likes of hers.
 Then, I knew it not to be so,
but came the day I saw you trekking by the river
 and with my love, I bound myself to you: never to let that go.
But now you are so far away,
 in that foul shadow East.
Though I know there will be a day,
 when together we shall feast.
You’ll come back to me,
 and by your throne I shall await
your crown and grasp the West Gate Key.
 When you finally return, I shall rejoice, for you had escaped your fate.
We shall marry Mid-years day,
 I shall become for you a mortal:
when you are worthy and I’m spared,
 and forsake the life given to my people.
Together we will live and rule,
together we shall prosper.
And when fate comes to your door,
I will be useless and become no more
than a mourning shadow of long ages past.
 And I shall weep my days,
grieving over the loss of my sweet guy.
 To the stars I will gaze
on the hill where I forsook, and lie there until winter, when I die.