From a face untouched by the sands of time,
Fair and white, elven pure
Shines an endless light from Sapphire eyes
His glance so steady, keen and sure.
In the faire land of Lothlorien,
Is where his heart does dwell.
Running over the plains of grass
His step so graceful and rhythmic,
It puts all who gazes upon him under a spell.
Hair of golden threads as if spun from the very
Flows shimmering in the wind behind him free,
Like a pale beacon of light
In an endless emerald sea.
Among the ancient mallorn trees
He softly sings in his own fair tounge.
All hearts swell,
To hear his voice softly carried on the wind,
Like a silver stream trickling through a dell.
To some, all of Middle Earth had withered away,
While the grains of time passed by.
But yet there are still those who still believe
Middle Earth and the immortal land of Lothlorien,
Still shine with a neverending light, against a