Quietness
Once this house was filled with my children's laughs and plays. I loved to listen at them.
Once this house was filled with my husband's mighty words, when we shared our works, our dreams. I loved to listen at him.
But my children grew, and there was no room for laughs but for pride. My husband's words became bitter and sour. I left. And they did too.
Now the house is empty, but the silent walls whisper to me: They will come back.
And here I am, alone, waiting for them. I know my sons will.
And Fëanáro too.
--oOo--