25th of Súlimë
26th of Súlimë, 2988 TA (I know not which and I care not)

She is gone. Nay, not gone. Not gone. I could not live if she were gone and yet I live. So ‘tis not gone, not ever gone.

But what light remains when the day is no more?

Finduilas Finduilas Finduilas
All things whisper tears of night
and write your name in pain
into the emptiness of a dawn
that lost its queen.

Come to me, star-crowned,
come to me, wake me
and let me dream
no more.

The shadows whisper your name, dearest,
And my treacherous heart
beats the rhythm of your footsteps
in the silence of oblivion.

Let me forget
O for the world I would not forget,
but I dread to remember
her that I lost.

---

Why did you come to me, Finduilas,
to teach me bliss
when you knew that you were doomed to fail?

Why did you ask, Finduilas,
to share my shadows
when you were born to walk in light?

Why did you follow me, Finduilas,
when you were queen
of foam-crowned wind and endless sea?

Why did you love me, Finduilas,
if love me you did
if love me you could
when you

Think not I doubt thy heart, dearest,
Think not I doubt thy soul.

I curse the day you looked at me
And smiled. NO!
and yet

I bless the day
I curse

Finduilas, Finduilas,
coward that I am,
I am left to retrace your steps
and try to remember
how to live

There is a strange comfort in the dark of the abyss
and the fading souls sing a siren’s song of salvation

---

Who am I to believe that I could keep a star
locked in mine own dark heart,
or catch the dancing sea-foam’s gleam from oceans far?
Who am I to believe that I could keep a star?
The storm’s tempestuous soul will tolerate no bar,
but fly or break apart.
Who am I to believe that I could keep a star
locked in mine own dark heart?

The words will not obey. Nothing of you in this. Just emptiness.

Imperfect as I have ever been, Finduilas. Too imperfect to keep that which was is perfection. Have you gone to the sea, beloved? To the singing shores that call you home?

---

Súlimë,
when the winds wept
and the stars mourned
the sunlight lost.

Súlimë,
when the tide came
and the darkened waves
swept you away.

Súlimë,
when the dawn failed
and the silent spring
lost its heartbeat

---

My future is a mirror of decay,
of shards like silver knives
that paint the skies another shade of grey.
My future is a mirror of decay,
of thistles grown and thorns to line the way
and tangle in our lives.
My future is a mirror of decay,
of shards like silver knives.

Must I always be selfish and ungrateful? Even now?

For Finduilas

I remember the waves on the darkening shore
and the wind like a crown in your hair,
and I knew as I fought I was losing the war.
I remember the waves on the darkening shore,
I remember the keys to a lost kingdom's door
I remember the keys to the secrets of yore
were the stars in your eyes, pale and fair.
I remember the waves on the darkening shore
and the wind like a crown in your hair.

Words cannot begin to describe the pain, for they are veiled like a mist-shrouded morning.