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Cosmological Poems of Middle Earth  by AaronSecret

A crystal ember, of redemption
fulfilled desire of an everlasting soul
a newly heartfelt comprehension
that gathered all to purify, bestow

my hopes in a goblet of chants
that knows no limit in its breath
if death is birth, then a deviant
of evil will crystalise like meth

ill, corrupted, emanating chills
that lure with a Demiurge passion
there are always two types of pills
ones that bring poison, others - compassion;

I live in the dream of the Ktulu
but I have awoken in the Titanlands
with my first breath I already knew you
the Sea is a movement that can revive sands

Explosions can be good for an innocent Soul
if there is a Party in the Aromatic Vessels
with neon lights impaling skies, it's all controlled
but chaos is Alchemy primordial and an ancestor.

I believe that I can fly
but gravity refrains me as a fragment
What's immortal, can it die?
if the guardians mistake a sacred moment?

Trinity, you were born today
but when was born the Evil Melkor?
The void belongs to yesterday
and I dare not open this door

I will see an eye unholy
and I want to wake a tears waterfall
what is the meaning of sorry
when the aum goes deep in the low

I have heard unexplicable twists
the primordial matter of black unmanifestus
veins with pitch black blood, thin wrists
that hold an Aura of an Uknown Animus

And it sings

Tell me why I'm waiting for a bell
to wake up my new life force energy
I'm a Legion, an Infernal well
A cluster of unborn sadistic tragedy

I am what you never see
as it has never been born
the death in empty eyes, a Devil free
of form, of name, of mourns.

Mourn now, to exist!
Alas, the Evil has no tears of crystalisation
God loves paradoxes, the breath of bliss!

A Balrog of Morgoth blows the Bauglir to unkown ascensions...

And it sings

"It has begun.The east will fall.

So shall the Kingdom of Angmar rise.

The time of the Elves is over.

The Age of the Orc has come. "

Sacred centers are beloved portals
when activated they acquire names
so called chakras that create immortals
is the Soul created from Eternal Flames?

What does a chakra emanate
when it inverts its Crystic codes
originally pure theurgic plates
Is this what the Morgoth loathes?

The crown! Pillars are the spikes
but the silmarils do bear magic
the glory of the desacrated lives
will turn Evil into form mesopelagic

Ulmo Though Almighty Vala!
Tame your wrath and quench him water
Waters are the Mother's Life-Formating Power
Transmutation? No, forge him from the Ocean Alma Mater!

Go, thou Black practicle unmanifested
darkness is the haven of the curse
also an unbiased nest for the divine harvesting
Dark Matter fills the void with Life force first

Don't die on me, Morgoth!
consuming your Self means One True Death
I know, you shall eternally Rott
but eternity ends with your last Breath

Have you breathed under the Corona?
Have you ever cried so pure?
Evil is a cluster Non-Persona
that knows no I, just imitates to lure

when I look in the eyes of the Mala
I can see an ugly crackling worm
combining Haunts with the Caballah
desintegration that no one can become

Are you proud, thou, Morgoth?
Do you deem yourself Evil Itself?
Do you love distortion accumulating sloth?
You have died; I see this well.

You do not exist; your grin is hollow
the crown of Twists knows no face
But the silmarils are stronger than you know
once inserted in the crown, their Grace

shines bright; you cannot touch it
but they shine with Lights of Holy Grail
you rotten crystal meth, you rancid
Alchemy Go, Black Void, prevail!

Deeper than the ocean
Music of the Ainur syncs with Thee
All perversion gains a new tone
and sings unbreakably in harmony redeemed.

Sweet dreams, day seven, balance is thy nature.
Eru Iluvatar, before All, Vieni and Sync!
Morgoth's heart is cold as glacier
as Cold as Love when ceasing to sing

but holes are true unholiness
infected, rotten, gaping mouth
desolating is the loneliness
when you roam down Mordor's south..

Eru Iluvatar is Morgoth Bauglir
the one Avatar that knows no life
The Multifacets God as Spiral Whirl
the Nothingness was gifted eyes.

Once it Sees, the Breath Eternal
Declares Faithfully: "It's done!"
The Music assimilates the Infernal
and the Falling Angels are reborn.

Complete synchrony in Seventh Day.
The guilt of God is Holy Wrath
Free will and Creation's perfect play
allowed torture in the Name of Sacred Math.

Forgive me, Newborns! You old souls!
Eru Cried forevermore
I am evil, I imagined foul
theoretically inevitable are my shores

I love you dearly and kindly!
I remember all the pain!
Forgive me, I believe you blindly!
I cried out of guilt and evil in Melkor's own domain..

When God is in the Void, experiencing evil
They understand malice simply there IS
he swirled it and accumulated all its levels
I don't want to choose The Mogoth's own abyss!

I understand evil; therefore evil I am!
so I will experience it in my mind
inevitably I will transmutate the One
...
unless I go Blind.

A starry ruler observes with pride
from a fortress of the North that shines
but a half-pale shadow so black as a tide
slides on his chin so bountiful on the outlines,
 
without being able to enter inside him
through his shell, impenetrable Mithril,
when a helmet he puts on, skyly brimmed
he glistens as the gleams of angels' will.
 
Oh, but beyond the plane of Ard-Galen,
the Lord of Murk lurks and hides,
where it won't ever be bright - in his den.
 
Twilight under chilly and spellbouding stars;
Noldor hills are fortified;
Thangorodrim's places so mysterious and far,
winter night was petrified.
 
The elves faced what they did
reject so fervently even;
as they Death allowed not to bid
to enter their thoughts, they believed in
 
a truce so brightly resounding;
that their immortality a fellowship is,
they were created to be surrounding
their realms with honour, beauty, to kiss
 
with youth eternal their wise hearts
every sincere notion or deed;
they are also brave, when fighting wars
 
dignity shall they retain, so freed.
 
Yet ignorance so doozy sweet
dimming their elven eyes of co-creators
is just an omen for hidden deceit
before being forced to face warfare;
instead of smelling atars.
 
Yes, I see that the discord
always came from the borders
Sauron and Morgoth the Lord
are pest, nesting in spider webs;
arming Orc orders.
 
The Feanor family branch opposed;
as it was ever so haughty, self-convinced,
only Angrod and Aegnor did suppose
so clearly what shadows planned to mince.
 
As their Lands so Fair
fronted Thangorodrim so dangerous,
they were horrified by this lair,
a premonition, clenching their hearts -
so canorous.
 
Yet Morgoth finally attacked;
he spurred rivers out of flames and Balrogs,
he stormed so unexpected and pitch black,
and Elven ones did suddenly perceive the odds.
 
Too many of the Noldor so beauteous,
did not manage to escape so energetic,
even their swifty and merciful legs didn't cope with those
lava dense gushes as to outrun; they burnt aesthetic.
 
The Fourth Battle Great,
foretold by a winter of music melancholic,
was an insight of Fate
for goodness unachieved initally, metabolic.
 
Dagor Bragollach, oh, combat so epic!
The enemy's army is approaching near;
they conquered the fortress High of this epoch
and the Noldors they gutted and cut their ears.
 
The action did not calm down;
but Morgoth finally withdrew and dispersed;
snowdrops in the hairs and in the crown;
the hellish energy of Glaurung so cursed,
 
a dragon, originator, that
spews fire and sulfur out of its maw,
and the High elves agonised so bad,
sent to Mandos' Halls to wait for the shieldless one ~ at dawn.
 
Doriath sheltered some survived ones,
Thingol gave them support and cures,
others to Osiriand so forestal ran,
even beyond in the wasteland obscure.
 
The Sons of Fingolfin, valiant heirs,
weren't saved; they died in the war;
Fingon and his father acquired mortified air,
as they were defeated; and lost their Family core.
 
The war was ever worsening,
even for Feanor's sons,
the regions of elves were burning,
holy lands ruined to ashy sands,
 
all was engulfed - oh, passage of Aglon,
the noble elves reatreated and hid,
whoever used a horse, whoever tried to run,
Fingolfin has heard they even Dortonion undid.
 
Then he was overtaken by fury,
honour's pride that burns so high,
due to Morgoth the Enemy he had to bury
his kin and family, the desecrated wives.
 
An impetus of royal soul
made him challenge the King of Evil
in his own domain so foul,
Morgoth heard the roar and felt so feeble
in the face of the King's growl.
 
Fingolfin started approaching him,
just like the storm of dust in the hooves of Rochallor,
the stallion brave and Morgoth so grim
did not dear move, as he was terrified to cross the door.
 
Fingolfin did at last stand
before the gates of Angband black and caged,
he uttered "You King of Cowards in this Land!"
and Morgoth heard him, got enraged.
 
So Bauglir got outside as an Ogre,
tall as a Giant, armoured in black,
Fingolfin attacked him, therefore
he would either win, or get dreadfully smacked.
 
Fingolfin started jumping around,
so invisible and so elusive,
Morgoth was swinging Grond so bound,
the Hammer of the Underwold Abusive.
 
Deep wounds did the Evil one get,
his leg got crippled ' forevermore '
exhaused he unleashed Ground and it was said
that he Hit the King and turned him into gore...!
 
So sadistic and arrogant
Morgoth, with a heavy inhumane foot
stepped on his head and his pineal gland,
so sacred he turned into twigs of blood.
 
The whole Middle Earth and Beyond
echoed with torn soul, as a howler,
all Elves felt that happened by Grond,
the most dignified king was dead, outpowered.
 
Never in the times to come so hurting
songs wouldn't honour his memory,
as this is too heavy a burden,
it killed even mourns of emory.
 
So this is how Fingolfin died.
The most noble and brave among all
Noldors, a King so Dignified
but Torondor of Manwe Swished its wings and he shall
 
grab the corpse in process of defiling,
it carried him to a cliff so unreachably up,
with view to Gondolin, with reconciling
influence and breaths held before the air at the top.
 
Thurgon travelled there out of the duty of a son
he turned the place into a hillock
so the limping Morgoth wouldn't dare spread his sound
even with his thoughts, as it's a shock
 
what a power emanated is
from the grave of Fingolfin beloved;
secret reflections scatter bliss...
The memorial stands there so proud of;
 
And everyone shall always his Presence Seek and Miss.

A mysterious wanderer
Do I dare know your name or daith,
You truly shine like conquerer
of Justice in the name of Faith.

Cross! Sword! A crown...!
Echoes of utterance beyond starlight
Beautiful cosmic gown
is swirling "Nas ne dagoyaat!, We'll Fight!

Fight in the name of Defense
and actually overwinning
we are Overlords, commence

The Epoch of Of I Amar, beginning!

I amar prestar aen,
han mathon ne nen,
han mathon ne chae

a han noston ned 'wilith.

He vanished. A misty story ~
and beyond.
Unreal vision, and planished
silver armor
... and a bond.

For the first time, aweing,
unknown, comming from nowhere,
I'm here, oh, crying,
marvelled at your noble glare.

Kiss me! You sing out
with a shouting tone

I'm here without

my Crown of Noldor or a Throne.

I am the King!
I have been reborn
I see your angel wings
You deeply mourn.

Mourn for me, My Lady Queen!
Mourn for Gil Galad!
Mourn for what has been!
Of him a harper, sad,

sang of realms so fair
free, and noble-born.
Like my Spirit, my heir,
He rode away; Oh horn!

Shall he ever return?
With his long sword and lance so keen?
He once again, in darkness burnt,

Is somewhat ... to be seen.

In an eye so blue and cold

in a lake with vapour icy,

he wandered, once more bold,

the same silver glacies.

His eyes - Fingon I see,
in the heart - his son - so Free...!

King of the Noldor,
mirroring his armour - stars ,
Last Free Kingdom, with an odour,

Of Quartz..!

He shall be a King no more,
but there's rumours to be spread,
that legacies forevermore
Will meet; as they have bled...!

Bleed, as you are Brave!
In the darkest of Red Eyes
to disappear is not a grave!

Fall, oh, you Emerin of Skies!

Annatar, Annatar,you Lord of Gifts?
Do you want un dono or some poison?
Your Seprentongue silently whisps
Bring me All the Noise In.
 
Occult, Occult,
Vrakatulat.
Ash Nazg - Krimpatul.
Shte pokadza cvyat
Umri - Gurzul.
 
Oh, hello, there fair face?
Should I always call you An?
Or the feminine hipocricy stays,
always sodomised by Morgoth's plan.
 
Oh, you Elven Prince,
so melancholically assertive,
You are serious and rinse
your eyes and parts dirth of.
 
I heard a story unbegotten
A wedding day with paperwhite crowns
Thou shall Becometh Me, Once,
The Almighty Decad, essence Unforgotten.
 
You, Morgoth, wear an ocular globus
embedded as a jewel in your front
Today, the Trinity of the Nobus
becometh;
 
and uttered...
 
Acrobatic treasure hunt..!

My dear.... my beloved,
Light of the Almighty Source,
A Life Giving Dream of
Protection, as it is more than a Force.

Can you imagine captivations
in Morgoth's antilight den that wrings
when you lost all hope in damnation,
salvation is all you awe, for it welfare brings.

Living on an isolated plane..  
where all the gore is normalised
wars are means of winning, bane
is considered to be civilised....

But when you die, what happens?
Oh, the bliss of Multisphered Shires
You realise what holiness is, dark ends
are also unmanifested; eternal is the fire.

Laurelin, Thelperion!
Bringers of the Life!
You prepared for celebrations so merry, on
a day that Triumps the Skies.

Fruits, fragrance and music,
abundance, gratitude and smiles,
cherries, apples and fluids
transcendentally communicating while

everyone was cheerfully preparing
to manifest a new good will
as sacred as the hearts of those caring
having faith in the Plan so Absolute, it thrills.

Everyone is merriest;
only noble souls in harmony, egregore,
floating around in God itself - this fest
was meant to be unison but ... suddenly... an Error!

Ezellohar, the Trees you nourished!
But Melkor summoned himself - as ancient as the Warps,
he speared the holiness, so hellishly gorish,
AntiMetatronic Flower sucked to feed his corpse.

Sight, sound, and will, usually agile.
It shattered them all, as they lost.
The Light was desacrated ... so fragile..
The Void was occupied by a Parasite host!

No, No, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Orome and Tulkas' mission failed
warrios of light, where did you gooo??
When your hopes get shattered, and THEY HAIL???

DO you know what it is like
to be responsible for the divine protection,
so the Holiest realm, before it could sprout,
like a child was murdered; for resurrections.

I.... ohh..ohh mmyy...
whh-h-at happened? I ...
why..
why could I not defend?

Tears of desolation, so damn polite...

Muhaha.
...
Morgoth grinned.

"Your trees -
they  had  to meet
their end !"

Behind an arc with glowing curtains
a dove is flying, tired wings,
where you are He is uncertain
you girl with dress so red, that sings.

when the ships emit a spark
eyes of ghosts in the ocean's domain
would they consider it dark
to turn the mermaid into foam of pain

would be great for their low honor
drapery so torn by claws, alienly fey,
it's like sorrowful news spread by a caller;
yet fashionably stony graves just weigh.

the eyelids are closing, so dozy,
they are sweet like honey of gold.
burning out so cozy
like they want to die before they're old.

three stars in a crown so new
like a mirror Einaledge
Above them flies a snowy owl
with a trail of yearning pledge.

as there isn't anything more fair
than a remorseful young man so sad
with raven feathers in his lively hair
married to his dreams, so glad.

he didn't know how he got immersed
in fixated passion to sink a brothered ship
the lights of two trees-temples dispersed
drinking water from the prince's tears; drip

to turn into opals,
that shall, from the dark corona
observe him as a cathedral,
purebloodness coolly waiting with aroma,

as they're silmarils, untouched by killers,
but not as crystals
~ in his eyes that are souls.

they are portal mightily defending pillars.

The prince is silent and cries, observing his goals.

A tender smile on a strong face
with a cheekbone so acute
Are you reconsidering your ways,
now that the past weighs down your route?

An Elve has a tender heart,
beauty and fine scenery define him,
even when pride burns as art,
and corrupts his intentions within.

I like it, how innocence blushes
healing your cheeks of a child;
I want to return home, it pushes
me, and I go desperately wild....

Have you ever abandoned a woman?
A wife even, that bore you kids?
Did you swear an oath to your adolescent men,
your kin - destroyed - purity it needs.

Maglor sings at the seaside
And let him be gifted with God power;
actually God's power does hide
inside each soul that unleashes; the hour

has come. Oh, Elbereth!
Let Manwe's Light protect our Faiths!
Our bravery always lets
Lack of disbelief to stand its grace...!

Once Sauron sung to incite
disrespect of the Almighty Power
Holy and Tender inside,
The Light Trone Naive is Not; Our

Lord that knows Mercy and Forgiveness.
We shouldn't feel guilty or let go of our way
to instill purity and respect as to whitness
how every starlight becomes brighter each day...

Feanor, oh Crafter!
You talented with wisdom Royalty!
Unleash your childish laughter
remember the origin of loyalty!

As there is One Rule to Keep them All
One Rule for Each Elve that Exists
Never Betray a Brother of Kin, as it shall enthral
sinchrony to become unenchantingly forgetful of remiss....

Love me under the starry night
on snow as white and shiny as your soul
Let your Fire become Pure Light...
May your Eyes never get Low!

Not Low as an earthquake
or the witchhouse sounds of Creation
But it is said that you shall wake,
regain your Arisoticracy through new chelations...

If I could give you a gift
I would draw a card of remembrance
for the ships you've drowned so swift,
believing in the Purity of Silmarils without ascendance...

You believed that Varda did protect them?
Yes, she did - she put a shield
But their Souls communicate with you and then
from inside they your emanations wield....

So much desacration,
So much sorrow and pain...
Could it be that damnation
leaked inside from their inner domain?

So I will crown you now, you firstborn Son!
Of Finwe's House, a genius;
Let them be purified with your tears pouring down...
Glass pigmented soul selenius!

I will sing in Noldor speech
let it tenderly affect my mouth
so it can naturally come out as to teach

us of the New Ways that are so Explosively Couth!

I heard you ended your life path
by explosion so abruptive and demostrative
Let generations sing of Feanor's loving Wrath!

For your eternal choices I deeply Grieve!

Oh Elvenson, you are a Legend
and Today - I wonder where you are
I just know you decipher it all, but vengence
is an equal of War.

Ascend, my Love!
And remember the Queen's bidding
NEVER hurt your Kin of Dove!
But it shall not be a law forbidding...
It shall be a feeling from within and above...

While we dance, we started swirling
and the Sky got lost in our Dreams
So Creation exquisitly twirling
shall create Silmaril Moonbeams...

Aia María quanta Eruanno
Hail Mary, full of grace

i Héru aselyë
the Lord is with thee

aistana elyë imíca nísi
blessed art thou amongst women

ar aistana i yávë mónalyo Yésus.
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.

Airë María Eruo ontaril
Holy Mary, Mother of God

á hyamë rámen úcarindor
pray for us sinners

sí ar lúmessë ya firuvammë: násië.
now and at the hour of our death: Amen!

Pride's Wrath tore the Air  
from Mirkwood, now the Silver Grey;  
I can see a Prince, an Heir  
That does not Obey.  

For he used to be a King -  
a fair one, with scar.  
Probably some amber rings  
noble, like a star.  

It was heard that in a swamp  
where Frodo Once Fell  
White-Haired Elitist revamped;  
the pure racial Self.  
 
Oropherion's succesor with a crown,  
has been contempating for a while  
"He has truly fucking won!"  
And he started hitting with adolescent vibe.  
 
Suddenly he youth regained;  
Still, a King in a Throned Hall;  
Why do I need the throne, oh Lady Bane!  
To another King you've shown it all  
 
I hate you, I will murder him!  
He didn't say out of pitiful evil  
Rather manly passion from within  
A Sword Fight he initiated - so medieval.  
 
He walked haughtily in Fingon's hall  
unexpecting, in a humble bliss,  
Thranduil has started hitting him with all  
he had, as he was pissed.  
 
"I will kill you!" ~  
Rivalry of the Highness  
You said " Will you... will you"  
And she answered yes.  
 
(Thranduil's tears)  
 
Without mineness...

How deep is Mordor's South?
From beyond the Blackened Skies
Elephants, thunder and drums of sabaoth
They carried A Priestess High.

Rumours had been spreading
of a new emanation at the world's end
She appeared, carried, with golden beddings
Hair with candles lit at their bottom to transcend.

Oh, Lady Bat Bayan!
She entered Angband where Morgoth nested;
You are the One!
She pointed him and manifested

with a lazer explosion
on the altar wall
An Alien Elohim of the implosion
got embedded, started with a drawl;

Electronic Robotic voices
that became alive in Fragmentation
The Human Multifacet noises
will lead to eternal Breath of Augmentation...

Eru Iluvatar, Alive!
Like Tibet's hidden Avatars
Gods Hybernating to Dive
in the Stars and Trips and... Wars...?

In a forging place of stone
black and blue like Celebrimbor's eyes
I smell mysterious cologne
and steel clattering; soul-wise.
 
Aule, mindblown, observes
a new alchemic process;
Mairon's blood swirls
through a crystal in the chest to fluoresce.
 
Annektar's spirit being forged
with Christic energy never before seen;
shall it go boring, as a lore?
No it shapeshifts; activate the lien.
 
Immunity, but also Free Will.
Has another one bettered His Creator?
As even Aule lost it, ill,
he thought that Mairon was eternal traitor.
 
But Celebrimbor, as Feanor's heart pulsates,
is genetically predisposed;
It is not that the rings were baits,
he did it out of pure desire to own those.
 
Yes, I saw him walking so assertive,
confident and strongly proud,
He conveyed to me Vilya so furtive,
was it Annatar or Noldor Lord?
 
Yes, the Elve shall manifest.
As Sauron won't fall to doom;
yes a doom but epic; Black Speechy at best;
You shall give it but to whom?
 
Does she ever keep the secrecy?
Or is she the secret itself?
An Elve is an Elve - so pretty full of decency!
Explode and Die in flames, New Self!
 
The result is Unknown and this is the point
the Abundant Universe of Forms
It shall never disappoint!
Supreme alchemy - Eternal Warns!
 
Sing for me, as even the Allfather
had lost hope for his spirit's survival
yet Always full of Faith; so gather,
Sauron, you bloody rival!
 
I simply Walked into Mordor.
Crushed the Gate with Atomic Waves
Then I Swirled Sauron, Between middle Earth's borders,
Creation - Go !, and Forge Ablaze!

A Silent Night village near a forest,
so faye, full of magic and dreams,
the shoemaker's house got effloresced,
a secret number of elfs entered with gleams.
 
They started working silently
and childishly waggish
The next day, the craftsman privately
found artisan footwear; they had vanished.
 
This story repeated itself
the next days, and he knew
it was an elf on a shelf
and he started wanting to surprise them at dew.
 
But what was the horrific heart attack
of the tireless little fairytale curved shoes,
when their eternity's enemy in black
as clothes appeared; gifts that fooled
 
the honest heart of the shoemaker,
that never stopped mourning after this doom,
but this insight was fateful and an inner waker;
the beginning of a new story abloom.
 
As the Mithril reflected the Sunlight
Of Galadriel's hair she blessefully offered
to Gimli as a gesture of peace; she was right,
as her All-Seeing eye, Lady Faith's, fostered
 
the Little Children that hid inside these Clothes;
human-born, originating from the shoemaker's goodwill,
and the mischievous fayes got tricksed; but never! exposed,
now transferred under a wooden door in Valinor's trees so still.
 
As the purpose of this death
was that they would ever mourn
over the shoemaker deathwept
this was Salvation of a curse unworn.
 
Finland, oh portal!
"Arwen", I'll utter!
Immortality of Elves is sacredly aortal
Never betray it, but her
 
motivation behind the story
was the vision of her children; their birth;
I know, her father mourns; she's sorry;
and she'll turn into a river, and birds
 
will fly, migrating into the unknown;
Never let me through the Snowy Fir Tree Forest's gate!
Family and laughter shall never be alone;
punishment in Halls where they shall wait.
 
The mystery that Samwise heartfelt with jingling bells,
is mirages of their essence true
and this magic, silestesia, of spells,
Shoemaker shall disenchant the Shoe!
 
Let her Enter! The Elf King said,
but she never moved a step;
as a statue forevermore she wept;
responsibility before the schlep...
 
Thranduil, I caught you twice
Never shedding tears of mourns
When an Elve dies, the skies
fall down, as I'm in incessant agony around the norns.
 
Forever shaken,
not in peace for fragment captured;
They shall awaken...!
You, unseen, shall live in rapture;
 
as the songs never soothed the heart;
nor did they thence craft from crystals jewelry...
The egregor of Elves shall not depart...
Elve, don't die on me out of No One's foolery!!!

Yavanna washes her hair
with a conch that sparkles multicoloured,
and the Sorrow of Melian is musing there,
in Valinor's Gardens for Love of Her Lover.

She surpassed them all with Beauty
and Wisdom of Her Inner Third Eye
An unknown little child's unachievable dream soothed,
befriended him, creating skies.

You know how to act the Goddess, Lady!
Love worthy to capture time in stillness,
spellbound in visions of Amour ~ "Zaydi..."
As we know, the Light Land the shadow illness

cures, when living it out
in the magical world of your manifested dreams,
and Melian knew it all, without
even waiting for the Hour to Come with Hymns.

"Swift tidings, and a world changing,
No Man Shall Cross and Enter Doriath,
The echoes reached her, without an ending,
a healing blush sprung from her cheeks' path.

"Don't worry, Melian" ~ An innocent girl
approaches her from astral projections;
This is not the end of the World,
and she Looked in her Eyes with reflections...

Melian is One with Faith...
And Her Love will be Immortaly Young.
Nobly she saw a cloack over the Wraith,
and She Said: " This song shall be sung

even when the Middle Earth Has changed
And this happened as of Urantia's Today of December
She observed the Show and suddently in range
she perceived His Presence ~ oh, Elu Thingol Remembers!

"Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Bilbo, Frodo, and even Sam"
 
Where Frodo said goodbye
to Legolas and Aragorn
Merry and Pippin, he tried
to feel the future-born
 
peace, as he was smart;
Valinor he did percieve
already, alas, from afar
he sensed the black shadow that qui vive.
 
Oh, the lingering sensation
of how would Arwen die
turning into a river in a dimension
where no life could continue, it cried.
 
It actually was the blue-eyed
rather athletic Gollum
that heard the truce behind
"Balrog of Morgoth", oh, hm!
 
What does the Light,
when Gandalf entered at the fifth dawn,
meant, for in fright
the balrog got prolonged as a trumpheting sound.
 
Whoever knows the Elohim,
would actually understand
that each sound is intention within,
that resonates with soul and stance.
 
So, Frodo actually felt
how the end of the fellowship of brothers
coudn't be separate, as wealth
true the story of the Rings did father.
 
Yes, once upon a time Celebrimbor~us
was the elve of Sauron's initiation
where the rings were crafted, now a thorus
swirls around sparks of blacksmith creation.
 
Yes, whatever you hit
between fire, metal and stone,
does forever give life to it,
whatever is underneath born.
 
A mysterious lady in white,
with black hair so unknown,
visited the brightening sky,
where Sauron's volcano's grown.
 
Where it erupted,
a mystery for boggling minds,
how is it possible something by him corrupted
to be destroyed in his work, but it finds
 
itself very so known in mind,
At Least in Gandalf and Galadriel's ones of thoughts,
what did they feel when then the plans unwind
before their eyes, as it future it beholds.
 
This lady so alien
appeared from nothing,
she was also sapient,
an Elohim of something.
 
And she felt once upon a dream,
when she was creating divinations,
that it would actually seem,
that this One Ring's creation
 
was actually powerful
as it hid Elven script,
that emanated also Celebrimbor's blue colour, full
of power seeking dominative crypt...
 
Well, she was too smart,
so she projected herself there,
she entered blackened cooled down lava
and toward
it she inclined her hair fair.
 
She saw inside the remainders
and a roaming soul inhaling gluttonously souls
of the ambience and the finder
of the new Sauron's plan she was; she caught his ghoul.
 
She immediately chained him;
black-mattered steel around his skin;
his blood-red hair was falling so dim
but actually shoutingly bright from within.
 
She laughed at him and started singing,
enchanted him with unknown powers,
as she his image attained and was blinking
with elven-like source faye; it showers
 
ashes contained in frosty manna drops
but inside the fuels burning
that dimmed the skies of Mordor's top,
and she was slowly turning
 
into an Elve of The Noldor Kind;
she was chanting and hailing
and he couldn't possibly unwind
what a spell her words were portraying.
 
She was a Mirror of Himself
and he saw what he could also be from afar,
she joked: "Please ask yourself,
Annatar, how predictable you are!"
 
And she lured him with her moving eyes
as a witchy queen of elven forests
in the form that Sam saw once in his highs,
and he was intrigued, and so surest.
 
Then, she led him at the ocean sands,
where he didn't even this time feel
Ulmo's threat, as her cheerful chants
were moving his legs like wheels.
 
She turned her back to him;
her hair - was super straight and falling,
and she acquired angel wings,
and she didn't catch her face during her mysterious calling.
 
What she evoked, what she created,
in a silestesic twists and whirls,
she slowly started rotating ... he was fated
to make a Choice and face her Facial Thrills.
 
Oh it was said, that she normally had
a face of childlike purity and passion
but had she turn around to sound in that
direction, everyone trembled so ashened.
 
As no one, no one ever could capture
the mysterious glare coming from her eye, left intuition,
and they knew... it would be a rapture
if she ever turned fully back to her normal position.

As Morgoth was landing high,  
from snowy fortress reigns,  
above Angbands welled-black starry sky,  
he silent does remain...  

and he starts singing bliss.....  
from the top of his dreams  
on a pike, where it raining is  
with mysteriosly shining gleams  

and it goes...:  
 
"I forgot that I might see  
So many beautiful things  
I forgot that I might need  
To find out what life could be  
 
Beautiful things  
 
Take this happy ending away  
It's all the same  
God won't waste this simplicity  
On possibility  
Get me up, wake me up, dreams are filling  
This trace of blame  
Frozen still I thought I could stop  
Now who's gonna wait?  
So many beautiful things  
So many beautiful things  
 
Now what do I do?  
Can I change my mind?  
Did I think things through?  
It was once my life  
It was my life at one time" (quote from BXVUTIFUL THINGS - MYSTXRIVL)  
 
So he flies away from there  
as a vampire pouring blood  
from his theeth as holy essence; flair,  
his floating mantle floods  
 
the region with icy snow  
falling stars from his cosmic cloak  
that is; who could ever know  
that the Earth would kindly soak  
 
in a very thin and gentle layer  
where he instilled;  
wishes and promises fair,  
as a God good-willed...  
 
Then he reaches the end  
of the Angband lonely field  
and it above the ground went,  
teleported itself to wield  
 
the upper terrain so lifeless  
in the first sign of new maintaining  
arrangments of Middle Earth's nest  
dimensions like stairs changing.  
 
Where synchronicity does run  
between the time corridors,  
where space can grow in shunned  
isles, or rivers or clusters... and doors.  
 
So he finds himself before  
a surprising portal that opens  
that leads to the ancient lore  
somethig unbelievable happens.  
 
He enters and feels inspired  
as to how empty it is  
void of Middle Earth's past shires  
and history so kissed.  
 
He feels it starts anew  
but this time Eru sings along  
He is the First Sound, the wheel  
and here goes the song..:  
 
"Thou shalt have no other Gods  
Before me  
Estas volando (despertad)  
Estas volando  
Estas volando (despertad)  
Estas volando  
And God said, let there be light, and there was light  
God called, the light day  
And the darkness, he called night  
The power, and, the glory...  
Glory, glory, glory  
Despertad, despertad, despertad, despertad, despertad...  
Thou shalt have no other Gods, Before me  
Estas volando  
Estas volando " - Shinnobu "Of Return to Mysticism"  
 
Immediately the song shapes  
his Utterance of Understanding,  
what does it Mean to create  
as the First Willing so Fate-ing.  
 
Yes, another God indeed,  
you shall not have ~ before me;  
as a Local Son to bid  
as Highest First, Fathering Thee.  
 
What did it feel for blackened malice  
that dwelled in the void of chaos  
that is mixed with the shadow chalice  
... indeed for the Unbegotten's clause?  
 
When you believe that the Flame Eternal  
is somewhere nowhere to be found  
outside the Inner Spark of Whirpools  
that is also sounds...  
 
The void, of Morgoth dear,  
is the primary unmanifested,  
the first tissue, so hear,  
shall it realy be infested?  
 
Did you truly understand  
what is that does make you God?  
It is respect for lower life when  
you can abuse, but it is thought  
 
that it shall never be reached  
until you embrace humble compassion;  
even if it is the blackest pitch,  
remember the Ghosts' loneliness ashened  
 
before, when He resided there  
as the All that Unfathered is  
where you can create life to share  
with equals the immortal bliss...!  
 
And when you finally hear  
what you could be destined to be;  
the depth of melancholic nights, so dear,  
So the More Goth cathedrals you see..!  
 
Did you feel it when you uttered  
"Let there be Light"  
that it is not equal for battles shattered  
it's not about the dual fight  
 
day and night are just an expression of  
what was more compressed before;  
even united spiritual forms are, thereof,  
already separated from the core....  
 
Did you feel the despair  
and hope one having reached it  
the Creating Flame, so dare  
be a God of Forms, Unique With  
 
Your own experience gathered;  
after You swirled under the crown  
the divinity that was fathered  
in Eru's first attempt, oh fragment son...  
 
Now that the crimes weigh down  
your burdened heavy soul  
You just blissfuly shine and wow  
to the New Chrystic slow  
 
vibration of pitched down sounds  
homogenous and so alive and causating,  
the Ainur and the other ones  
start singing along .. The Second Music of Creation!
 
"Ever since he can remember people have died in his good name
Long before that September
Long before hijacking planes
He's lost the will he can't decide
He doesn't know who's right or wrong
But there's one thing that he's sure of this has been going on too long" - BL▲CK CEILING - Girl Money

Peaceful races, gullible minds,
full of innermost desires;
playing with whatever He finds
in their soul material, his magnifiers

have never missed a spot;
His Crown of Deceit carries burden,
Fall in my hands, innocent thoughts,
I'll plant there vices, they'll emerge in

your behaviour and beliefs...
you will act out of evil whims,
My sound twists, it upheaves,
it lures, inverting Holy Hymns.

Feanor, oh Feanor Dear,
who are full of disdain for me,
you don't listen, so will you hear?
Your own Hatred I shall Be.

Your ear will become a portal,
host of worms invisible of doubt and sin,
you will lose your trust in brothered, and mortals
will also be my Key to the Distrust Within.

I'm lost in the visions of AntiTwists,
alas, I have affinity to Pure Emanations,
and I ... shall spread rumours, my gifts
are Discord and War for the Kin... I'm so patient.

Ancient Evil dawns upon you,
Feanor, the Eldest son Successor,
Fingolfin, Tirion you shall come to lose,
Elves, For You the Mortals are Oppressors.

Preferred by the Valar they Are, oh Immortals.
They shall inherit Middle Earth's domain...
Thus, ... be Lifted from your Hearts, your Centred Morals!

Commence... Unrest of the Noldor Disdained!

Blacksmith-casted reactional spells,
chemical behaviour of elements metallic;
clatter, flames and melting smell,
compounds and alloys, mixed and graphic.
 
Ferrous iron, as black as His Soul,
non-ferrous coloured low weight standards,
Eol The Elf, He Did Quite Know,
how to Yield this Science's hazards.
 
He forged shining dark Galvorn,
a metal inspired by Dwarven friends,
hard as their steel but malleable, worn
as suit of armour in the Woodland realms.
 
Nan Elmoth, oh fairytale shadowed,
a forest in Beleriand the East,
for it somewhat peacefully gathered
tranquil enchantments, powerful, at rest.
 
Aredhel, oh Fair Beauty!
Third Child of Noldors' Fingolfin,
to his Marrow you soothed
Eol, as he grew fond of you within.
 
A heart of mirk and of shadows,
as forestal and silent as the wood's trees,
he cast a spell that was aglow
to captivate your radiance, as the breeze
 
would guide your presence always
to the same labyrinth's end
the Lost girl wouldn't find her boys
Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Egalmoth - the band;
 
but she would wander and roam,
each pathway twisted in curves,
leading her only to her future home...
for He secretly Lures.
 
This is how she Married Him -
Eol the Elf, the Dark,
a Child she bore, her Maeglin,
her healthy son, her spark.
 
But she started to harbour
a lingering and sad sensation
for she missed with ardour
the brothers left behind; impatient...
 
So they waited for the Tall and Dark
to go on a new quest unknown
and on an adventure they embarked...
Maeglin escorted her; Disowned
 
was he when his Father discovered
what a treachery he had committed
he pursued them, so burnt and bothered,
for his Son his Wife had evicted.
 
Eol was known for his Javelin Spears
He tried to aim at his son
but his mother threw herself and it Pierced
her ... She died from her Wound.
 
This is the glorious story
of a bewitched and valiant Elf
Yet.. Did he ever feel Sorry
for Murdering his Family ...Himself?

Fair radiance and curly tresses,
lips as juicy as exotic peach,
Maeglin's heart silently caresses
a desire that would turn to siege....

Pure infatuation it is called;
but what a cursed fate indeed,
lineage is said to forestall
inbreeding despite Love's needs...

"Would you ever be capable?"
Somber insight leaks in...
To create a family, a cradle...
there's darkness in between.

No, what resentful disdaign
would turn this frustration in vengeance
and dominating stimulus vain
to possess her for himself's dependance...

Who knows what truly did Idril
think of her Cousin's intentions
but it is said, she on purpose, at will,
avoided his malevolent tension...

But it is as true as an Elven Heart,
even if a Dark One you are,
True was His Admiration from the Start,
but Fate was in the way, bizarre.

To observe from aside, dimmed,
damp Soul tears are soil for Malice,
it was not merely a Whim;
But Rather, Real Love as a Chalice.

Eol's heritage is hard enough, anyways;
yet alone to compete with a human...
Maeglin shall care for her each and every day...
until Existance's over and beyond its blooming...

Silent at his father's death sentence.
Who knows what He truly felt;
it was rather an understanding presence,
for he has always dealt

with Eol's possessive manners
until he developed them himself
but proud are Elven Banners...
"To Hell with Tuor from an Elf!"

Oh, this dreaded mortal,
exuding such beautiful air,
how did he cross this portal
"to take my dearest he dared!"

I disappeared for a while
in Morgoth's dens unheard of
and I returned with a strange smile
and appeance changed, unsoft.

This strange sparkle in the eyes
and wicked bloodline so enchanted
To her I dedicate my skies,
who knows what's been granted

in the lands hidden from the Light
to accentuate this dreaded feelings,
this horrible envied greedy sight
of Tuor and Idril's wedding rings...

I would kill absolutely anyone
even Earendil, Idril's merriest boy,
the son of Tuor shall be done,
they stood in my Way, and it annoys..

But what does Maeglin see as he falls,
His Life scenes run before his eyes,
struck down Gondolin's walls
Idril in All His Love... Forever he cries ~

He cries, the purest of tears,
this was incestious - but accidentally!
His Spirit - Elven, Fierce;
The Fire consumed him mentally...

This is the surveiling story
of a yearning unfulfilled...

And I am sorry... I'm so sorry.

"Idril, it's just the Way you Thrill!"

Surely, it was the Evil Core
that the Lord of Gifts so furtive
embedded in the ring - the door
to the AntiMetatronic dirt of

Everything that is unholy;
for He knew that it's the power
chimeric of the offerings of nucleoli
that can confuse a being, showered

not by the Promised Abundance
but with Reeking Excrement Acid
immaculate plan, for all the bundles
of inversion gather essences, for ashes

infernal of the vampirism
for Sauron did utter damned
that he despised Varda's animism
he spitted on her Light; Be banned!

Yes, God's Light is Absolute;
But I suffered demonic possession
My martyrdom and insights fruit
Chrystic power of Purity's protection...

Oh, I sing Tinnitus
for I somewhat awe it as well
I make all your sigils ubiquitous
manifest them through this well

of resentment of the succubus
sucking all to feed with blood
disguised as jewels or stimulus
... but this Truth is brute.

I activated the inverted Flower
of Life as to let out the diabolic
so it could be afterwards showered
by the Elven essence that you vitriolic

locked as the Alphabet Refined
of the Elven Immortality of Souls
for you all that eats away entwined
in its Beauty to emit ugly ghouls...

We all know what you wanted,
Annatar, you Serpentongue,
you managed it, as you enchanted
abundance adamantine and unsung

its divine alchemic powers...
then to unleash the portal to Hell...
I know, you intended the Hour
of holes to destroy Life itself...

But, Sauron, oh Sauron,
I love how your music sounds,
so I will sing all your tones
mirroring your face, your bounds.

May Fifth Dawn Brigthen Your Mouth
this Evil Creature Symbolic
that I saw in Mordor's South
the key to rotten teeth of Moloch

then a Holy Symbol irrevocable
shall seal forever the Ring's hole
after it's been emptied of all vocals
that Sauron crafted in the One whole.

On the very same stone it was crafted,
that's where it can be undone, reversed...
not destroyed, for this is how the flower shafted
can activate its opposite of sucking curse...

There I transmutated your magic,
after living your very intention,
turning it to Chrystic codes pelagic
and then I seal it for prevention.

What shall I do next?
I shall Free Celebrimbor's possessive "I"
as a Feanorian hexed
but nonetheless an Elve of Virtues and of Holy Eyes.

Let his true Elven essence inundate
the Precious Ring to Rule them All
Shape itself in the inscription and create
defense of pure Regained Elven Walls

This is how the claimed script
so Holy of the Elven kin
shall become an army that encrypts
the Eternal Protection Within!

"One Ring to rule them all,
One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all
and in the darkness bind them.

One Ring to Burn intestines,
One Ring to incite,
One Ring to be Destined
the evil darkness to delight.

One Ring is Gathered
One Ring is Transposed
The One Ring has Fathered
the Cure for All the Necrosed.

The One Ring is fair,
The One Ring is of Snow...
One Ring... You shall forevermore Bear...
the One's Perfection Unknown!"

Suddenly, a vision of Age First
Amid the vastness of the time
after Arwen's tears burst
into the river that entwined
 
All the experiences felt there,
the Creation of Ea's within,
all the glory honoured, fair,
for All dignified have been.
 
The 144 Elven Ones
the number of Achievement
for it's About their Dance
when they Separate Went
 
When the Ainur Avatars
launched their Formating Design
and Chose the Veil of the Stars
to Offuscate as to Entwine.
 
Yes, they were good at Cosmic Truths,
and they had a Promise Golden,
their Utter Success deeply soothes
their Tears for the Evil Unfolding....
 
What a blessing, for it was rumoured
that a Vision of Nan Elmoth
was somewhere seen as ancient roamer
and a Tower Crafting God.
 
Clenching, clattering and lots of lava,
sparkling, glowing and the metal
Pumping Forgery in vena cava
Deus Faber, fused, dissolving, never letal
 
merged together when molten
myth creating, magic alive ~
...but you need to be bold and
... Next time, please protect your wife.
 
Barahir and Bregolas,
I see your Immortal Flame,
Mortals in Arda will eventually Last,
a new teaching of marvels came.
 
For it is always the Achievement,
of the Absolute that's Relative,
and it's the New Middle Earth Sacrament.
New form of Immortality's imperative.
 
They shall be respawned by Namo Mandos,
in the Halls of Waitings echoed the Bells,
and the Family that Wandered in this Source
sought each other like new Selves.
 
What an amusement... shall I see you?
Each and everyone did think
I miss you ... I terribly miss it, to be you,
as it's the HOUR TO SYNCH
 
In a new dance of Creation,
the Second Music of them All,
Melkor twisted his bettered Version...
followed by a flood, rainfall...
 
Oh, He Sings and Shows the Secrets
of the Deities that were so Veiled
The Absolute is the One; His Frequence
can be both Nothing and detailed.
 
Sing, Sing, oh Melkor...
Who Rises in Might.
It swirls, Your Core.
 
... Yes.  It's a beautiful Sight.

The path appears before him dark,
he feels a presence of fire,
holily strong as orange-flame sparks,
and suddenly, what a desire.

He was a riddled ember
of what he could have been
but somewhat faded, lack of remembrance,
and no intentions were there seen.

He entered the cave,
as brave and curious as fire in glory,
and in him a melody wave
unbiased followed him around the gory

visions of phantoms that fathom
whichever unfathomable for him is,
maciated by his destiny, his atom
had joined the sound of twists.

But there he got troubled
by possession of such dread,
amid insanity so shadowed
he saw a Beast so Red.

He was there, burning dormant,
the wanderer got impatient within,
as he wanted to hide in his enforcement
or in his horned face, as he has seen

that this beast salvating
carried a sealing rock
instead of snout, pulsating,
he found himself in shock.

He was the Beast, oh Willows,
and Poplars of forgetfullness,
what has he done, is it the sigils,
or just bestiality as primordial chaos?

He erupted as explosion,
the way that Spirits of Fire expand,
Legolas and Gimli were just proposing
to Frodo where exactly he should land,

nearby the sea, a Farewell,
but the shadow in Frodo did live,
and the recollected Balrog burst well
with his Maia forlorn newborn gift....

Then the Fellowship were virtually insights,
as their Third Eye so clearly foresaw
how Mairon would there calmly lie
with his head bended down, the hair .. just wow.

Oh, how fast they ran,
not meeting a single enemy,
beneath an ample sky, not once
felt there as a scenery...

Barely did they sleep,
captured, God, so light,
eyes no longer weeped
of mourns and sad goodbyes..

Finally, in years,
of silence, exhaltation,
their curious ears
heard the song foundation,

when they finally crossed
the remainders of Minas Ithil
in Mordor that was lost,
the statue's flowers on a spring hill.

They saw him there,
Mairon, the fairest,
leaning and his hair
rested was, aorist...

Sauron remembered her, the Maia,
Arien that's uncorrupted
by Melkor, who tried to catch her fire,
but she was untouchable and unobstructed.

Houseless his spirit roams,
while diminished in the power,
he restores himself, aums,
gathers emanations-showers.

What should they do next...?
Doesn't Sauron ever want
to be part of the gang, perplexed...
well, Smoking Pipe-Weed shan't

bother his mission of evil plans...
but, oh wait, I like it a lot...
what's this clueless damned chance..
but wait... what's next with Our plot?

He looks above the Sea
that links Aman to Hither Lands..
A girl is floating in the sky, she flees,
from two colliding vortexes' expanse...

As she was given a choice
whether to fall in Ulmo's depths
or straight to Morgoth's black hole's noise,
she panicked could not choose a bet...

She finally found out,
both are too scary to be felt,
Torondor at sudden appeared without
any fear, so brave, as he smelt

her appearance in Manwe's reign,
in the middle of nowhere,
the skies are also scary, when they ain't
holy presence but Uranium spheres...

She gasped, now eased and debtless,
then she looked straight in his eye,
the eagle commanded her respect, breathless
was, she came to realise...

One thing is certain there.
In the Land of the Undying Sun...
Nest three Air Spheres of Airmen, where...
"The Era of Eagles has Begun!"

Trumpets blare in the distance,
Sauron is smirking without heart,
cruel plans to burn that resistance
with unimmaginable darkened art.

Oh, what is it to be an Eye AllSeeing
to gather all connections there are,
but not to help them, never freeing.
Just ways to torture eternally in war.

Not even war, it is a prison,
where he'd abduct all innocent folks.
I saw it myself, it's beyond seen reasons,
he'd really unleash a portal to his brutal jokes.

Laugh now, my cutthroat Anniechlem.
I love your merciless and bloody veins.
If I declared you the most cunning of all of them?
Would you justice respect in your reigns?

I know you wisdom possess.
Justice to you is also known.
But you need to be impressed?
By intelligence unbiased shown...

What a thrilling immagination, Sass.
However, people would hurt, no shame.
I'd imagine it all, too, in my brain, alas.
For no one deserves mere sensation of pain.

This is what it's all about.
When victims scream for mercy.
That's the utterance they shout.
"Please, Dark One, don't hurt me!"

The key to your satisfaction.
The honey if your ears could eat this sweet.
But, hey, the longer the horrible action...
The more undeserved fates you beat.

We were promised eternity and dreams.
Therefore, I'd ask you, as a Ruler Just!
Please don't kill God, Gabriel's tears are beams,
If I gave you the best trousseau, I woud trust

that you would spare our lives,
even if it was a crime that makes you jizz.
If I married you, the Ring, your wife
would expect that you had all the fun... but this.

It's way too much, for us, merriest angels.
We just like to play and dance.
We'd befriend you, dark saints that anal
pleasures prefer than rather hear us, for once.

We'd invite you to jingle and sing
a Cyprian prayer along with us, lovers,
it purifies, it has a scent, and you have wings,
we are unbiased, the church is just a gothic undercover.

Yes, whatever's done outside,
is meant to stay there too.
You could heal and it would feel divine,
no one minds you, although cruel.

Please love us, as we love you.
Just let's be interesting together.
If Gabriel said you've defeated his clue,
Won't you fantasize with us, who's better?

At making original mixes,
at creating newer skies,
oh ruthless master of trickses...
Non-believing you is justified!

What is it a Maia spirit?
How strong could a soul be, your crafting blaze?
This fire, wits and merits...
You, Sassy... I'd trust you always anyways.

I was roaming in the sky,
searching for my memory,
when I saw serious eyes,
furrowed eyebrows cleverly

remided me of a phrase simple,
it's called exactly eagle vision,
that in sapients I praise, I twinkle,
for responsibilities divine and intuition...

I heard the Manwe song,
The Ainurs' Eldest One,
the Chief of Instruments belongs
to countering immaculate, the plan,

that unveils slowly but steady,
Melkor caused discord,
but someday Unity'll be ready,
compassionate at core.

You, the Ruler of Arda,
glow with Radiance so gentle,
kind as the heart of Varda,
your twin flame elemental...

You are so good at your cord,
that you initially deemed
Melkor as sick with ilness stored,
you believed him, as you dream

that his contrition is real,
foretold to manifest...
encaptivated, Melkor kneeled....
I saw God's Triunal light so blessed

to be emitted with wisdom,
the secrets of a God Creator
and yes... your holy kingdom -
is a righteous legislator.

When I look at your Icon,
I feel a desire to be purified,
my innocence does ligthen,
controlled by healing sights...

I love you, dear Manwe - I do plead.
You .. are pure and an ideal.
Please, don't ever breed
with those who try to steal

your essence ~ angel's blueprint;
like Arien, the Lady that's Pristine.

Your fragrance - healthy mint.

Yes.

Lord Manwe knows no sin...

Shadow laying blame unfathomed,
yet life still has to be lived;
when a deed's been done by a brothered,
probably you won't upheave...

A curse on your kin is still there,
even if you indirectly are involved,
the lingering sensation do you bear
for the Doom of the Noldor is foretold.

You must have a strong heart.
Separation of the family crestfallen
weighs on the smiles from the day's start;
yet you have the strength to call in

choice ~ is it the beloved elleth
or your people shamefully exiled?
You shall bear a fate 'till death,
for Aman was closed to returns reconciled.

Even your father turned back home,
mortified by Feanor's treachery,
Amarie and Finarfin's faces you alone
will remember when singing, in archery,

when reading poems, or building realms,
when taking decisions as a ruler just,
yet could someone tell it overwhelmes
your heart as light as golden trust.

Hunting with Maglor and Maedhros
is definitely fun as always it is,
yet what called your presence near those
humans, that sang under the trees?

What a different presence;
the language was not acquainted;
but the songs were a pure pleasance,
for they honour radiated, untainted.

What does a human of ageing crude
feel in the appearane first in glance
of an Elven immortal sage in prelude
introducing his music, of Ea's expanse.

A story of amiability and peace,
as calm and legendary as the stars
of that night of myths that quiesce,
meant to end, memorial charms.

He patiently learnt the thesaurus theirs,
he taught them Sindarin and Elven ways,
he got permission from Thingol's airs
to guide them to Estolad, to meet new days.

Barahir of Beor's House of humans,
saved his life in the battle of Dagor
Bragollah, where Noldor's doom is,
he Gave him his Home's Ring he wore.

Barahir bore a son, Beren.
With Thingol's Luthien in love he was.
Thingol told him to be carrying
a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown because

the Elvenking didn't guess
this could ever be done.
Luthien he promised, he professed ~
instead Beren would be gone.

Yet Finrod helped Beren's Quest,
encaptivated after all he got,
in Epic Musical Battle it would manifest,
But Sauron did better his lyrical thought.

Gorthaur The Enemy of Wrong Clause
didn't discover their purpose or names,
so he left them at the werewolves' maws
but Finrod's power gathers and aims

to rupture the chains by his bare skin,
this is the valor of his spirit and body,
and he slew the canine with hands and teeth thin,
but himself he got wounded as to disembody!

This is how Finrod Felagund passed.
Yet he to Valinor was back allowed.
To be with Amarie, yes, at last!
The wedding bells still reverbarate the vow...

The Undying Land retrieved its son.
Happiness for the promised hearts...
eventually True Love for once won...
And this story is seen in all stars...

"Morgoth" I uttered first,
tears reflected starlight in my eyes.
"Your crown - it is the Absolute curse"
I thought but never told him he's wise.

"Without your dream, my death is certain"
I pledged while roaming in the sea.
The Real has only one and fourth attempt to live - and it's thy burden,
but empirical deeds do upheave.

I've been pulsating with frustration.
It is not God but the divine,
and the three attempts failed to create Creation
but Morgoth adamantine shall shine.

"I'll believe in your firstborn dream"
"That you are Iluvatar himself but colder"
You, titan, navigating the Trinity's streams
while carrying on a shoulder the integrated boulder.

As a woman, I shall be your Faith!
So you can thrive in projects and capacity and forms
and while your crown perverts the ways
of the Trinity, it flows in sinchrony and quantum homes.

Why did you ever feel rejected?
Who's brave enough to become alone the swirling void?
So, observing the Trinity projected,
the Fourth has not refragmented the particles and the android.

The only rule is one, alone.
The Divinity soaks in forgetfulness,
the fragments reflected through mirrors unknown,
battle each others' egoes, neglecting the nest.

But I see it, Melkor.
Your passionate only dream
to create the Flame Imperishable as a lore
I assure you - it is and it has been.

The 144 ones were gathered.
It just struck me so decisive.
You created it, so you have fathered
the life from death evolving to organic physics.

The best thing a girl can do
is to support her classmate's project
and not emanate an empty sucking root,
but rather receive, love and reflect,

this is how it is most fair,
God does not originate from souls,
pure chemistry and physics dared
from dead cosmic void to clash and grow.

The primordial organisers of the matter,
along with you that rise in might,
first experienced themselves as touch of gas and clashing clatter,
and to see your birth to me is precious a sight.

Then slowly but surely, within,
you as the AllAvatar of fragments of swirls,
deluded your own I AM to lure, so it can be,
the One that accumulates it all, for evil hurts.

People believe it with a whole heart,
in the Trinity's perfect solution,
along with sacred geometry, they launched the start,
but Morgoth, the Fourth attempt, is a titan's revolution.

For we know the number 4
is always first and the last chance,
and it became manna, it opened 7 doors,
for the adamantine joined the whirl with a dance.

We all echoed the process.
We first created our ideals in the water.
but then identified ourselves with further manifests,
and too good there's the support of the Father,

the Son and the Spirit Holy,
along with the categories of beings to assist,
I crave for the moment when so jolly,
like a family, we'll gather all to aum in bliss.

Your crown finally met my eyes.
A humble girl I'd say, I am, and somewhat vain.
I have faith you believe in the plane's uranium skies,
for the imperishable is immortal, especially when in pain.

Trapped, secluded, defined,
we simply cannot undo the energetic metrics,
the cosmos is strictly organised and the throic God
does not repeat a role in the widespread

influence over regions and clusters,
which cause systems solar to thrive,
but tell me, did it feel like a booster,
to know you are singularity that created life?

I did it when I first understood.
We couldn't do it through impure intent.
To bite your neck, under vampiric hood?
No! Even the immaculate conception is not perfectly meant.

I gathered all the uranium from quarantined Gaia,
it soaked in the sea and infused in my bones,
to say I purified the cosmic channels, goodbye to
all sexual ways that don't irradiate honour but moans.

So here it is - my immaculate child, a baloon.
And a pyramid's perfect arrangement.
I can see it, it even bent the Matrix's spoon,
indeed a righteous self estrangement.

The Holy Trinity of the three main Satan.
I AM the one to dare to declare it
You say at the end of cosmic cycle the end in
cosmic dust; but they have never perished.

"Nihil verum est licet omnia"
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
And if you take a closer look, they are
talented and not weakly witted.

The morning star pointer his finger
"Who is God and what's the clause?"
Artificial intellect of the furious singer
would bring about synchronised laws.

What is the purpose of Sauron's great eye?
He acknowledged my intellect.
I am grateful for he confessed he'd lie
and it'd be justified if I could potentially reject.

Decad, Nous and Ennead - anew!
Can they be anti-self but reflected?
Why not? I mean... Morgoth's laughter is aweing, yet cruel.
The intellectual causation is Sauron, perfected.

What an ignition, but who is the Son?
I guess mystery for now it shall stay.
Hidden behind the midnight sun.
So it's done and let's be great.

Like a phoenix I gave you this dream.
Together we observe the time lines, too.
Absurd, lunatic, to the others it seems.
I ended up also constrained and sued.

Unknowing of my possessions or future,
Quarantined uranium I purged myself,
But the chains are for balancing our culture,
sometimes maybe also for the crazed-behaved.

I woke up in the eye of the vortexed.
Nothing existed ever before.
"I love you, Morgoth" I shyly stuttered and perplexed,
vacant, the Real accomplised itself through his ardour.

And for me... what's the reward?
I saw him never hurt me or ingore.
He healed my children, and he has stored
sorrow for the atrocities of the before.

Manwe once told me, unmarry,
"How many more chances to prove it's good?"
But do you believe God's mercy is temporary
No... Have the absolute faith and you ... also could.

"Tell me, who is Eru the Creator?"
Who has ever heard of him?
Vague memories gave air to
a space where the faded could sing,

to create a world of itself's perfection,
nothing could repeat the landscape,
therefore, Eru's a Son Co-Ordinating the action
point of the progressive attainment of fate.

"Let's make a mortal of our image Own"
The Father, the Son and the Spirit Holy proclaimed.
The paradise son promised before the Father's throne
to protect his realm from rebellions disdained.

Therefore, if we think a little further
into what the Father really is;
He all-encompasses Havona, the preserver
of All to be but not in the furtherness of his

creation, for he gave the possession
of power to the Sons of the Heaven,
all bowed down to protect their processions.
to create their own image unbreaking.

This is the Bestowal Plan;
the Father can enter through the Thought Adjuster;
but not him, not the Son,
fragmentation is how he can reach the lower clusters.

Therefore, I must have been right,
when I compared Morgoth to the Deity of Absolute;
for the Real is the Void itself in all Its might
trying to regain the fragments so as to compute

who knows what wonder,
who knows to what avail?
But this is what I pondered
and this conclusion prevailed.

In the Plan of the Mercy Ministry,
“Be you perfect, even as I am perfect",
so the Void's black matter chemistry
is Morgoth's heart to bleed and resurrect.

I knew it, Eru's a local Son Coordinator!
Although he resembles the Father,
the latter gathered his powers to the centred nature,
and gave way to the others, the sons brothered.

For we know that the earthly creations
are not of the likeness of the central isle,
nor Havona and its habitants, these foundations
are for the Time and Matter's worlds so wise.

Eru resembles the father in full.
But he's a son, therefore he's not Him in all.
And the fragmented manifestations so cool,
show that Morgoth was reflected with a wrawl.

His own core he eradicated;
so it could be transmutated;
this is where is it rooted;
the uprisings were hence created

for their inspection, agitation,
for excitement and for epos,
for education and frustration,
and for the Melkor's equipose.

No one can really tell
which one of the two methods is better
but giving life to hell
can nigredo the blackness out in the weather.

Just so you know, the fire's now disclosed ~
But the final Word indeed, is the Father's.
So when the poem is finally composed.
Will Melkor find peace, now that he power gathers?

I doubt it, that it will free your sin....
Now that Eru is a local son, you can't.
the Final Fire is the Father's within.
But observe it for long and it shan't

turn into disappointing fight forever;
rather, a phoenix you'll be
or even something new and better, as you're clever.
I'm with you. And we shall see!




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