Spirit of Fire: Silmarillion
Your mother gave a great gift to you
The giving of which consumed her life
Curufinwe was your name at birth
To her you were Feanor, Spirit of Fire.
Most beloved son of your father
Most skilled of word and hand
Creator of letters, maker of bright gems
A secret fire burns within you.
Ever working are your hands and mind
Soon you were spoused to Nerdanel
Seven sons she birthed for you
Hotter grows the flame in your heart.
Foreknowledge of doom it's possible you had
The light of the Trees you longed to preserve
Alone you labored using lore, skill and power
Driven by the fire within you.
In secret you created the Silmarils
Blending the light of the Trees
Giving the jewels radiance and life
Binding the fire of your heart within.
So like the stars were the jewels you made
The maker of stars, Varda, hallowed them
If touched by mortal flesh or hands unclean
That which touched would be scorched and burned.