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.

Starry Likeness

I find no escape.

Not from the creature at my side;

Not from the creature tomorrow, or yesterday.

As a sieve they drain me, straining my blood and my heart into a blur of chiming kisses and bows.

Suspicion seeks to prove that their strength cannot decrease

– that the vile noises rising from the back of their throats will always resolve into melody.

                – that they are clothed in a perpetual fragrance of harmony.

Should it be that I ask how so cruel a fate was bequeathed me? or shall I but seek my solace in dreaming?

I would that even one resemble death…

That she should curse me into fleeing away to that place of nonexistence;

To hunt amongst silent green leaves and mute beasts and let blood well-earned and praised spill across my hands –

                Not life touched by insurmountable difference.

Were there any eyes so bright as theirs?

                So deep, so beautiful, so insightful…

Any lips so sweet to kiss;

And any skin so soft to touch.

Surely I peruse the portraits of the finest known to our kind and beyond…

                Valar forgive me for my hatred.

Were I to be free, I would gladly retreat to the most forgotten depths of this land

And bury myself in solitude and darkness.