The Last – A Poem By Daughterofpaladin

by Mar 24, 2005Poetry

The blooms have withered and the grass is brown.
The waves lap against a desolate shore.
Lothlorien has lost its golden crown.
The time of the elves is no more.

I have seen the gulls soar in the morning,
I have heard their calls with the fall of the sun.
I’ve listened to them herald each day’s dawning.
It’s the voice of the Valar; they tell me `Come.’

Manwe speaks of the white shores that will greet me,
Varda praises the sky, awash with elven stars,
Yavanna tells tales of forests to entreat me.
They ask `Why do you wish to stay where you are?’

What hope do you find in that desolate land
where Eru’s second-born are doomed to wander?
What is there that is keeping you from your homeland?
Why do you willingly cast yourself asunder?

But I ask my kinsfolk why they abandoned me,
why they chose beauty above the land of their birth!
How could they discard this place so callously?
Tell me, oh tell me, how you left Middle Earth!

It’s withered, yes, and it’s growing old,
the stars are fading in the darkening sky,
the forests are shrinking, and the nights grow ever cold.
But it’s where we were born, and are meant to die.

It’s not a land that’s seen too much sorrow;
it’s not just the place where we were born.
It’s the stars of tonight, and the sun of tomorrow,
it’s forest and field, and mountain and shore.

It’s the trees that watched us when we were young,
that guarded us when the world grew unsafe.
It’s the sound of the river, and the soft elventongue.
It’s lore and it’s legend; this is not just a place!

But my friends, my kin, you have cast it off,
you’ve abandoned it in search of whiter shores.
You found peace, perhaps, but how much have you lost?
How much more do you now have to mourn?

The sun plunges behind the tips of the trees.
Stone eyes watch me as I depart from the shore;
they sing a song of sorrow as I drop to my knees,
and weep for a past that is finished, no more.

Dwarves will mine and men become kings.
White towers will rise, and black towers fall.
Soldiers will fight, and minstrels will sing.
But my people are no longer a part of it all.

Their wandering spirits have filled them once more,
and again, yet again, they continue their search.
It will lead them, in time, to the land of Valinor.
And I will be the last elf in middle earth.


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