Avo Awartho Estel
Fearless lady, tall and strong
Never of her did they sing a song
Throughout windy tales of pain and fear
Rarely did she well a tear
Within the house, abandoned and weak
Slept young Aerin, now lowly and meek
She whispered few words, afraid to speak
For fist fell across her face, week after week
Withered of hope and cold of affection
Chilled not her kind heart
Risking upon herself wrath of ignorant fear
She helped Morwen, to whom she was dear
Morwen and Nienor, her daughter, had left
Yet she was there, in Dor-lómin, to remain
Dwelling ever until her day of death
One day there was a light behind the clouds
Dark days they were for such a woman bound
Wandered far, Túrin did, to return to home once loved
What he had discovered, however, was lucky to be found
Túrin, in anger, held Brodda above, the hideous fleck
For he thought irely of this evil deed
Then threw him fair, a snap to the neck
Blade of his was sharper than hooves of hasty steed
Túrin left unwillingly the lady Aerin behind
For they both knew that time would pass
"Death is sure to be mine..."
And Aerin said, as Túrin left,
Letting not anger remain in this sound;
For treachery like this,
I forgive thee not
Glad I am that my kin brought to you death
For of you, I think naught
Upon weary nights was I severly afraid
I loved you never!
I was frightened, hurt, and betrayed!
You are not lord of this land
Never possible, nor forgiveable
Ignorant you were, Easterling
Never trust at hand
For you meant nothing to me