LotR Object: Nimloth the fair, White Tree of Gondor
It is more precious to me than the drop of rain,
that falls from amber sky burnt dry from suns heat.
It is more fragile than wildflower's first bloom,
hidden away from sudden thunder storm's beat.
My time here is coming to its end, I've no strength left,
none to start shaping another if I lost it now.
Into this last seedling I have placed memories,
of my past and future I carry in every bough.
Though my name has changed with the flow of time.
my lineage is unbroken from the dark years,
A living gift given to Eldar, then Edain,
it was Yavanna that gave me life and tears.
Every time the Darkness thinks it has beaten me,
I spring anew from the forgotten garden.
For like Galathilion and Celeborn,
I shall always be, even if I'm hidden.
So when my branches turn black and withered.
you must beware the Shadows silent company,
But look for me again, though seedling I may be,
when once again the people work in harmony.