Fire:  Mount Doom -

What promises he made me!  What glories did he paint!  Power, and beauty … to create and not destroy, and to him I gave all I knew.

With my bones he built his towers, with my blood he washed them clean.  With my heat he shaped his people and with my breath he blankets them.  And then, a little boon … a bauble, he asks, to receive his power and keep us all. 

I was lawless, but I was free, then my own light blinded me.  A prison now his walls have made and that bauble merely the last link of chain.