Disclaimer: Like Boromir would have died if I owned any part of "The Lord of the Rings"
Where My Soul Dwells
For of a passion I must tell,
A world of creature, monster and spell.
My passion that is and was of yore,
A tale that would seem as if it's true lore.
It may not have happened, here, in real life,
This fantasy work of courage and strife.
But I knew from the beginning, I knew from the start,
That it truly occurred somewhere deep in my heart.
Devoured was page after page, in great mirth,
Of the tome that brought me the world Middle-earth.
Flying like an arrow released from the string,
My imagination was Gwaihir, it soared and took wing.
The story came alive in the middle of my room
And so grew the fear of imminent doom.
Jump from the pages did Lothlorien the fair,
But so too did Mordor, of that place beware.
Pay very close mind to the messages unfurled:
Even the smallest can go change the world.
Though you risk life and limb, you may even die,
When the odds are against you, you still have to try.
A fellowship nine forged because of a ring
Enduring much suffering over so small a thing.
So noble a quest set out on the plain,
Bent on saving the world from Isildur's Bane.
Swords hissed and clanged amidst loud battle cries,
Heart-broken am I and tears fill my eyes.
In honour and valour fell warriors true
To the halls of the dead, their spirits then flew.
Though good triumphed over evil, alas
I still sorrow over what soon came to pass.
When the lost king was crowned, the fellowship ended
And the pain of the elves leaving could never be mended.
The soul of the Ring bearer, from his wounds found no rest,
With the elves he sailed off into the West.
An elven maid, now mortal, stayed on the shore,
As her kinsfolk departed, returning nevermore.
When reading this book my heart starts to swell,
Part of my soul in this place will dwell.
This passion in me is mine evermore,
And who knows what memories it still has in store.