'A blazing wave devours white shore,'

The poets muse on Feanor,

While they should wish him nothing more

Than swiftly falling ash.

-o-

In reckless words we forged our fate,

In white-hot script for cracking slate,

Each syllable the world's weight -

But gladly were we crushed.

-o-

I saw blood in the soft sea wrack;

Each sea-elf dead a mirror's crack

In our own faces staring back

From all the noble slain.

-o-

In Dior's blessed and empty face

I searched for us but found no trace.

The mirror shattered. Only grace

We bear no more stared back.

-o-

The waves closed over Elwing's head,

Dissolved the Light that silver bled

Into a face that held no dread;

So different from ourselves.

-o-

Not princes now, nor kings, but thieves,

And reckless as the falling leaves,

We take the Jewels and my heart grieves:

For all the world is stained.

-o-

For this the final Doom we bear:

In blood spilt red as Nelyo's hair;

The golden Vanyar lying there

Dead, even as our hearts.

-o-

The living Light is agony;

A shining, sharp finality:

A leap into eternity,

Into the mirror cracked.

-o-

Deep water hide this wretched Jewel!

A Silver flame in bloody pool;

All who might have called me fool

For drowning it are dead.

-o-

'A blazing wave devours white shore,'

The poets muse on Feanor,

While they should wish him nothing more

Than silent, faceless ash.

Written for a contest on dA. The repeated theme of the cracked mirror is supposed to show how Maglor sees himself and his brothers in the elves they kill at first, but gradually he sees himself less and less - not because the other elves have changed, but because Maglor himself has changed, and not for the better. Make sense? Characters (c) Tolkien.

~RandomCelt

...yes, I'm addicted to writing poetry in this rhyme scheme/meter. Yes, Morgaur, your poem is coming - Maglor wouldn't leave me alone...