Summary: Master Legolas reflects on that dreadful, cursed bane of his life in pure, romantic, freeverse poetry. In complete seriousness (never mind the subject matter).

Purpose: You've got to guess what the subject matter is! What is the cursed bane? Tell me! I need to know! Also, should I continue this as a story in poetry?

Disclaimer: I think I can pretty much say that I own every phrase as it DOES NOT apply to The Lord of the Rings, and that J.R.R. Tolkien owns every phrase as it DOES apply to The Lord of the Rings. You, the audience, own nothing except the enjoyment (torture) of reading this.

Soul-Haunting

It is not often that I set aside time for such little things...

                Such trivialities,

                                Such -  nuisances.

Curse me not, for those are my words. Nuisances.

That is what they are -

Holding me and taking my time;

Taking my life and entwining it in pearls and stars and glimmering silks.

Wrapping me in a robe of smooth murmurs and white teardrops,

Crystalline voices and silver eyes -

And still the graceful swirling under a moonlit sky...

These things - nuisances as they are - blind my waking days with brilliant nights.

Clear as sun in this forest, clear as water in this stream - brilliantly surreal and unforgettable.

I would that they be forgotten.

So many, many things to be forgotten.

Things of this inner time - that which does not exist outside of my quest or within my peaceful wanderings;

Not like a gentle slumber, but a rage, abrupt and screaming winds thrusting me into a world tearing apart at the edges.

                Where friends are but shadows, crippled and twisted -

Where foes are next to kin.

I long for a swift hand to guide me from this mangled net of roses and ivy -

So beautiful, and so alluring,

But yet so strange.

It is a warmer day when I will see the sun,

And it will not shine down on faces unbeknownst to myself -

When rain will fall on the hunting path and bring no unwanted guests - be it Elf, Man, or Siren.

But so often, now, my time is stolen and deposited into a thousand such nuisances -

And escape is fleeting to fathom.