Lament

By Avalon Estel

Disclaimer: “The Silmarillion” and all related characters, places, languages, etc. belongs to the Tolkien Estate. I make no claims to it and only write this for entertainment purposes.

Harpist of old, where tread you now?
Your face is gaunt, your head is bowed.
Your midnight hair falls in your eyes,
Of hopelessness you sing aloud.

Harpist of kings, why do you grieve?
The maiden’s soul has taken leave,
Yet still you weep for your lost love,
And songs for her ‘til now you weave.

Through the woods you walk alone,
Its shadows seep into your bones.
As moonlight guides your falt’ring feet,
You sing laments for fallen thrones.

Throughout the world you pass unseen,
Mind filled with half-forgotten dreams,
And cold the wind blows through the night,
You see now what betrayal means.

Despite your loving, she passed on
Into a different, farther dawn.
They call you traitor, yet you walk still
Of Luthien, you play your songs.

Through the darkness
And the night,
Your music passes
Far from light.

Until the end
You’ll walk in shade,
Your broken heart
The price you paid.