How empty my heart has become of late;
Merely a vacant shell, so delicate and vulnerable,
Its filling slowly drifted away
To greet the White Shores of the West.
.
My ears once heard laughter resounding
Through the forest of Greenwood, rich and alive.
But the breath of spring once locked in those bright leaves
Now fades away to a lonely mist.
.
Here I stand on the joining of land and sea,
The last of the first-born to tread this lonely paradise.
My unnatural choice once made with such conviction:
To remain here, though the elves have passed.
.
The cries of the gulls become ever harsher,
Beating insistently on my soul like water on rock,
Accusing my abandonment of fate
As I stand resolutely over the harbour.
.
The waves of the sea ripple in beckoning.
Oh, how they glitter in the setting Sun!
They mean to tempt me with their calls to sail,
The calls of the elves now living in bliss.
.
My heart doth protest my resolution –
It is in a heart's nature, after all, to follow
Those to whom it is bound, in this world
Or the next.
.
I wonder, then, shall I ever again see them?
Shall I ever again feel the comfort of love?
Only time will tell; and to wait is to
Tear my heart apart, thread by thread.