Ered Luin was a strange place. Its beauty was certainly unmatched, and within it were reminders of an Age long gone. Davus touched the pillar of one such ruin, and wondered what it would have been like. Bree was surrounded with old architecture of kingdoms once grand, and this place of the elves was no less so.
The breeze caught the branches of a nearby tree, its petals catching and falling to the ground beside him. One brushed his face, and he gazed at it for a time. Deciding to sit beneath it, he pulled out his notebook once more, humming a vague tune to himself in different beats, until he was satisfied with the rhythm, then began to write.
O blossom tree, how your leaves fall,
Upon the ground that once stood tall,
Proud and strong, now nothing’s left,
Has all its grandeur faded West?
O blossom tree, what have you seen?
Pass through these lands, these fields of green?
Have they all to the harbour gone,
To fade away, into tales and song?
What was it like here in those days?
Was it truly the proudest Age?
Did hobbits, dwarves, elves and men,
Live side by side, as if they were kin?
Now do your leaves fall the same?
Will you ever truly bloom again?
Or will you fade just like those who,
Dwelt in this land an Age or two.
Oh, how I wish to see those days,
How grand these lands upon to gaze,
The towers tall, your blossoms high,
Reaching to the very starlit sky.
Now the world seems grey and dull,
Nothing seems quite so wonderful,
Men no longer look beyond their feet,
They live their lives, on the same street,
Nobody cares you look at you,
A flower blossom, strong and true,
Like Man’s soul, please do not wither and fade,
Please stay with us, to the end of days.
He sat back, putting his pencil down, and closed his eyes. The colours and hues of the pink, golden and green leaves were truly remarkable. It saddened him to know that the elves were fading away, over the harbour. When they were gone, would the light be gone from this world too?
