Ring of Power

Frodo’s burden, ring of fire
Isildur’s bane, Sauron’s desire

Gollum’s obsession, eaten alive
Possessor’s poison, hell’s own drive

Middle-earth’s consuming lust
Death devouring, conquering dust

Key to power, all to crush
Hell’s own whisper, all to hush

Cries of torment, self’s own rule
Temptation’s child, to keep…a fool

Ichy fingers, beating heart
Long to have, wisdom depart

Pride’s own passion, common sense lost
Trapped in nightmare, lunacy’s boss

Cut the hand, only hope
Free the heart, will to cope

Something lost, something gained
Joy rebounding ending pain

FIRSTBORN

By the light of the stars
were the Firstborn awakened
And ever after they would love the night.
Middle-earth wakes up to a busy day
but the stillness of the night
belongs to the Elves.
It belongs to them still
and to those who are like them.

IN KHAZAD-DÛM

In Khazad-dum, in Moria,
where Durin’s people dwelled
they made of this mountain root
a Dwarf city called Dwarrowdelf.

Splendid is was, its walls of stone
with pillars of light from torches shone.
Peace there was, till greed took hold
for Dwarves desire mithril more than gold.

Deep they delved, their hunger for gain
awoke the Balrog, Durin’s bane.
From this grief would years unfold
to make of Gimli a similar mold.
He would wreak vengeance with all his heart
thus would the Dwarves have a new start.

SET APART

Could you be wounded for something good?
Frodo would show you the scars if he could.

Could you be forgotten even though you’re a king?
Aragorn could prove it through years of suffering.

There are marks you bear on skin and heart
that will always set you apart.