Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien's, not mine.

The Wanderer

By Ithilwen

				An exile roams, sad renegade,
				Sorrow's son, in form a shade
				Of what he was in younger days
     					Before the sun,
					In Tirion -
				A song of grief he plays.


				Once his voice the heart did lift,
				"Forging Gold" his name and gift
				Spun beauty from his harping hands.
					Now mourns he
					Beside dark sea
				Alone on alien strands.


				For evil oath he once did swear
				At any cost three jewels fair
				To reclaim, and killed his kin
					Whose help denied,
					And so they died -
				And Elvenkind knew sin.


				Of these vile acts he did repent
				And counsel to his brother sent
				That they should break their solemn word
					The gems to gain,
					For too much pain
				To others had occurred.


				But this his brother would do not,
				And so together they did plot.
				Two jewels in the end they gained,
					But hallowed stone
					Seared flesh and bone - 
				Past crimes left them profaned.


				In despair his brother fell
				Into a pit, and there will dwell
				In raging fires deep in the earth
					A gem of light,
					Its luster bright,
				Until the world's rebirth.


				The other gem is in the sea
				Where Maglor threw it after he
				The jewel could no longer hold.
					In pain he sings
					Of dreadful things -
				Sorrows as yet untold.


				Maglor! Though believe you do
				Your banishment eternal, true
				It is that Elves can die of grief;
					In Mandos' care
  					Your soul you'll bare,
				And thus will find relief.