This poem is about the doom of the free spirits, creatures that I have invented, and plan to write a story on. It may be somewhat strange and difficult to understand, but things will clear up as soon as I post the story.
Of mortal kind you were to be,
But the One has put a spell on thee,
To live the life of Elven-kind
`Till the Earth its end does find.
But still, die you can
As mortal men
As a sign that thy death is near at hand,
You will dream the sunken land
In thy hour of doom
Thy fate shall be shown to thee
And as you step into your tomb
You’ll hear the words that were
Whispered to me:
Whilst thy heart is true to thee
You won’t hear a voice from me,
But if thy heart betray thy mind,
In short-lived bliss yourself you’ll find.
And as the Men you will wane
Until age takes you or you are slain.
But if thy heart’s love die too soon,
You will follow with the moon.
If you love immortal kind,
Swift your way to Aman find.
For into darkness you will fall
If thou don’t heed the wide sea’s call.
These words were meant for thee,
Mandos spoke them unto me,
The choice is yours, my daughters dear,
Still, in death for you I fear.
Thy paths in life wisely choose,
Trust not to the darkness, for you will lose!