Fëanor - An ode in sonnet form to the greatest of the Children of Ilùvatar

A hand that shook the Elder Days,
A sword that smote the Darkness pain:
He that tread the long-gone ways,
Fame and glory he beheld and gained:
He shone as a star in flames of Hell,
The ages of Night he alone defied;
He walked unafraid into death and doom,
Unto the unknown depths he cried;
His horn was heard in the Deeps of Time,
His strength was fell in the dungeons black;
In despair and agony his will was firm:
He perished in his quest in Thangorodrim's crack;
Fëanor! Fëanor! For thee shall the Eldar mourn,
Rest in peace, son of Finwë, mightiest of all that once was born.
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