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.