Flowers without scent - A Poem

I cannot see what blooms
Lie upon the branches before me,
Nor what sweet scent hangs upon these boughs,
For he is gone, who did adore me,
And now I wander home.

I cannot taste the air
That in solid motion shrouds here
Or what the song upon the night
And in my youth I did abode here,
And now I wander home.

No, what blooms upon these boughs shall be lost
And the air shall be taken by the fiery frost
For the sword that was broken was re-made
And did he, as king wed an elven maid?

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