A/N: This is a collection of all my LotR-related poetry. There's a good chance that every last poem I intend to ever post is completely awful, but hey. I live to take risks! I live to be flamed and/or criticized (not to mention that the latter is very helpful)! I offer up my ego for your degeneration and venting purposes! : )

I also won't be producing a new one on any frequent basis, because my poetry gets really bad (worse than it may already be) when forced. Feel free to leave suggestions, though, and perhaps I'll be inspired.

Here is a universal disclaimer for you. This applies to any poems posted in this collection:

I do not own Lord of the Rings, its characters, its lovely soundtrack, or its places. No profit whatsoever is being made. I also do not own any of the other various songs that I listen to and then incorporate into my poems in any way, shape, or form.

Many of the poems (at least the ones I have written so far) were created while I was listening to music, which will be announced at the beginning of the poem if applicable, so if you choose to go for the full experience, you can listen to the designated music while you read.

Now, as for this poem: If the second-to-last stanza is a little off-kilter, I apologize; the original version did not take into account the fact that Arwen and Aragorn had daughters, and I fixed it. Or perhaps one could say that I tried to fix it... Thanks to Larner for pointing out my mistake!

And now, without further ado, I give you poem Number One! (Titled, as you may have noticed, "Aragorn's Choice.")

- ~ -

They've passed on now,
long ago, while I linger here still,
growing old and gray
'til death takes me some day.

Few now remain from the years of before,
from those times when I was most glad.
Those years now are the days of yore,
when little in life could be sad.

But now most of those who had made my life joyous
have passed on to what lies ahead.
And next I know it will be me-
one day soon I'll be dead.

Would it not be better, then,
to leave Arda on my own?
There is no longer much purpose here,
when so many loved ones have flown.

Though my wife and my son I will still leave behind,
my son will make a fine king, and
enough have left for that other land, mind,
that I won't be alone in the end.

And one day not too soon after I die,
I think that my wife will then join me,
and a while will pass, and my children will come too,
and we'll be together, or so I plea.

So, yes, I think that my time has now come;
I will leave very soon if I can.
After all, it's only another adventure
to a distant and unknown new land.