Beauty danced to the carol of your name
as we signed Love’s treaty
on the terrace of morning.
Our beings, embroidered
with flowers, swans and lightning,
became flags in a strange
and many-towered Citadel
where every window
laughed at frowning battlements
and night was just another name
for Immortality.
The Dead Marshes.
The dead marhes through the eyes of a child who witnessed it. Though it may be your initial reponse, please keep in mind that it is not based off any real characture from Lord of the Rings. I made this one all up. Please comment.
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