Sorrow
She sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes, once gray and full of laughter, were the colour of dust and reeking of sadness. She would have been fair, a beautiful creature of light, had she not remained in the cold darkness of the icy months passed. The pallor of her skin matched the crisp whiteness of the sheets she sat upon, perched as if all hope was lost.
Upon a tall white horse he rode,
The prince, the ruler, the captor of my heart...
He had always liked white, almost as much as he had liked green. Her wedding dress had been green and white, and it had pleased him, but that was long ago. The memory of it was more painful than the thought that all was over. Why? Why would he leave her here to die alone and afraid? Did he hate her? Had the mortals corrupted him against her, making him stay parted from the one he had called true love? No. Not only the mortals. The Dark Lord had a hand in it.
He stole all words away,
when he looked into my eyes...
Grey. That had been the colour of his eyes, and blond had been his hair. How quickly, it seems, that an Immortal mind forgets what it once held dear. He had been great, a gem among his people. Excellent at the bow, superior at horse riding. But then, all Elves were. But now he was gone. Forgetting all bonds. Choosing to go with his new companions, staying away for too long. Now he had payed the price, and she was paying it with him.
He set my soul afire
When he touched my hand.
How tenderly he had held her the night before he left, pledging to return and bring with him a love renewed. To bring back what he had lost, somehow, in the time they had been parted. But Elves die as easily as Men, and promises can be broken in a matter of seconds. Trust was gone. Life was gone. No, not life. The will to live a life. That had disappeared long ago, along with him.
On that bleak and dreary day,
He left my heart in pieces...
Pieces that could never be picked up and put together again. A faint sound of laughter reached her ears. How could there be any merriment in so dark of a world, so cold of a time? So pale of a time...
Off he rode, to fight, to die, to war
Never again did I hear him whisper my name...
Come back to me! I want you here. Do not leave me! It was painful to think such things, knowing he could not answer, but silently begging him to. But he was gone. Gone forever. Dead in a world of Mortals who are so used to death that they can steal away something so precious and barely take heed. She laid down on the bed, not noticing the faint scent of lavender that had been washed into the sheet, nor the softness of the pillow under her head. Only Death was visible to a mourning mind.
Never to have him tell me he is in love...
Love. Love. Such a simple word that brings forth all the feelings a being can muster, sad and happy, good and bad. Such a simple word to describe an age-old creation that would have been better of unmade. Then none of this sorrow would have been, would have taken this life of hers.
Never to walk hand in hand,
He was called away by the stars...
Mandos would welcome her. It welcomed all who fell into the cold, chilling grip of death. It devoured everything and everyone under the pretense of an eternal, happy life. But she could see through the false beliefs as clearly as she could not now see the sun or the trees; as clearly as she saw the darkness that ate at her soul. She willingly let it take her. She would see him again. They would be together.
Even after long years have passed...
Valar, it seemed like a millennia ago that word had been received that he would be delayed...now he had been delayed further, this time permanently stopped from every returning. He had wanted more time with the Mortals, and now he had given them the most precious thing in the world. He died for them, and she knew that they could not care.
I can not look away,
For fear of forgetting...
Fade. Time to fade away into the mists of eternity. These lands held no happiness, no meaning for her. They never could, for everything would remind her of that which she lost. The trees would lament his passing and weave it into their eternal song that would be sung over and over, always growing, never changing, but to be heard only by the ears of the Eldar.
He lives on still,
In my mind...
But what power can the mind hold over death? Everything will fade...nothing left to live for. A single tear trailed down her pearl-white cheek. It fell onto the spotless bed sheets, a drop in time, carrying the hopes and fears and pain of a tortured soul. It left a ring, which could be dried. Then nothing would remain at all to tell of a passing. Nothing remains...all hope is lost. Sp sad. So wasteful, this thing called love. She could feel the smoothness of his long, blond hair rubbing against her cheek. He had gone, and she would leave the land she loved for the one she adored. It all had ended long ago. This was not the end. It was a beginning. But she would miss the songs of the trees...the kiss of the wind. It would be horrible to die and leave this world, and yet not as horrible to stay and be parted from him for the next eternity.
But that will not quell the sorrows
Of a broken heart.
Namarie, Meleth nin.
The End.