An Elven poem of mourning:
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The Rising

O fallen star,
hero in a never ending war.
O world that seems so dark and cold,
without your light to guide, your arms to hold.

Although your arrows may be strewn across the battlefield,
although your silent death's the battle's only yield.
Although your bow is broken,
a new star has awoken.

Your spirit shall not ever die,
living always in the tears we cry.
Your life seems ended by the frost,
but the war is still not lost.

The reason's nature's never ending quest,
in bringing new life where our loved ones rest.
The battle, hero, is not lost by far,
o rising star.

written on: 16-01-2002

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