Disclaimer: sadly, this world does not belong to me
A/N: not really sure where this came from.but enjoy anways! I'll continue it if I get enough positive reviews
The white gulls call mournfully as the eternal waves crash against the Last Shore. They cry for the Eldar people who used to walk this beautiful land. And the gulls cried as the Elves pass westward, as the tall grey ships set sail from the Grey Havens, carrying a people of music and joy. With starlight in their long hair, and sparkling in their eyes, they laugh and dance: for they are the Elves. But the First-born of Iluvatar are lingering, a sad folk that song softly in the hills during the night when the stars of Elbereth shine brightly in the dark vaults of the great heavens. Most of them are gone; they have passed away to the golden land of Valinor where the leaves fall not. And there they shall dwell, unto the ending of the World. Still, some Elves linger, fading as the long Ages pass, on a shore that is too beautiful for them to let go off. However the time of the Elves is fading, the Twilight has gone, and departed from this shore; an island, that watches the steady river of Time flow by. Their songs are their memories and they remember all their joys and sorrow, their long labours and their triumphs. And the Elven-tears fall now, more bitter than ever.
A/N: not really sure where this came from.but enjoy anways! I'll continue it if I get enough positive reviews
The white gulls call mournfully as the eternal waves crash against the Last Shore. They cry for the Eldar people who used to walk this beautiful land. And the gulls cried as the Elves pass westward, as the tall grey ships set sail from the Grey Havens, carrying a people of music and joy. With starlight in their long hair, and sparkling in their eyes, they laugh and dance: for they are the Elves. But the First-born of Iluvatar are lingering, a sad folk that song softly in the hills during the night when the stars of Elbereth shine brightly in the dark vaults of the great heavens. Most of them are gone; they have passed away to the golden land of Valinor where the leaves fall not. And there they shall dwell, unto the ending of the World. Still, some Elves linger, fading as the long Ages pass, on a shore that is too beautiful for them to let go off. However the time of the Elves is fading, the Twilight has gone, and departed from this shore; an island, that watches the steady river of Time flow by. Their songs are their memories and they remember all their joys and sorrow, their long labours and their triumphs. And the Elven-tears fall now, more bitter than ever.