Bright House of Finwe

A poem for Galadriel

In days of old across wide lands they strode.
Anar shone with fire upon their new and hungry swords.
In elder days, before the darkening of the road,
When bold and youthful were the eyes of elven lords!
Bright House of Finwe!

And now, neath trees of gold, one bitter exile,
Who saw them born, who watched them die.
In elder days, innocent of Morgoth's guile.
Now unremembered, none yet live - save I.
Bright House of Finwe!

No more the elven warriors string their bows,
For who should do so since my Aegnor is slain?
No more the elven spears defy our foes
Since Angrod my beloved fell in pain.
No more the elves to their last fastness' cling,
For Orodreth is gone, and Nargothrond.
No more the elven lords defiance sing,
Since Fingon fell before the wrath of Grond.
Bright House of Finwe!

Since Finrod stood upon the bridge alone,
When Feanor set strife amongst our kin,
Since Aredhel fell poisoned on the stone,
When Turgon was betrayed, and Gondolin
Since all our house was stained with kindred blood,
Finduilas lies silent in her grave,
Fingolfin's banners trampled into mud,
And Amroth drowned and dead beneath the wave.
Bright House of Finwe!

I am the last, beneath this failing sun,
The last of that brave house, renowned in song,
For Gil-galad perished when this war was young,
Thinking evil ever-vanquished. He was wrong.
O, which grey soul yet burns with enough flame?
To avenge the eldar of this cursed ill?
Perhaps in none that this grey world can name,
And yet... their grey eyes haunt me still.
Bright House of Finwe!

- Evermind