O Nightingale, flown away,
Your songs but memories dim.
Hark! I hear sweet singing play,
Or is it but a dream?

O Nightingale, I wait no more
For soon I have to leave.
I’d love to hear you sing once more
To bear away my grief.

O Nightingale, when you return,
Don’t weep to find me lost.
Just sing to all the songs you’ve learnt
As you wait for winter’s frost.

O Nightingale, I come again,
My heart cold frozen ice.
Perhaps your song may ease my pain
Or it may not suffice.

For I’ve waited here each winter’s day
Since the night you flew away.



=Nightingale Flown Away=

O Nightingale, will you sing me a song?
When the sun’s rising from the seas ablaze
With streaks of orange and fuchsia among
The shimmering waters and rippling waves.

O Nightingale, will we sing together?
When the sun’s shining on the lands below
With soft golden rays of warmth which gather
To light our paths and keep our hearts aglow.

O Nightingale, will you remember me?
When the sun is setting the skies aflame
With the pale light of its final glory,
I cry out again my beloved’s name;

“Tinúviel! Nightingale flown away.
Lúthien vanimelda, namárië.”



ender wrote this for me just before i left


=Night in gale=

Quiet has the forest been
And silent too the night
The wind passes through inhibitedly
Like leaves that do not wake with light

Long has the Dark plagued
the spring which bubbled once
Longer still has discontent grew
festering in the shadow’s gloom

twinkles faded from wrinkled eyes
weariness eased the smiles
Happiness left for better lands
Darkness toiled the harrowed ground

where once the nightingale sang
the song plays no more
where once wove chapters of magical tales
the wand waves no more

oh nightingale of my lustrous friend
why have you left his side
how would the tales then travel hence
if the night no more holds your songs

before the same plague conquers me
let me search for your graceful wings
to save from the ashes my fallen friend
whose heart must burn with thee

yet the hour grows dark as Death’s gate tolls
mocking Spring’s half desperate growth
but perhaps new roots can break the frost
if the seeds can flee the snow

I rouse the chilly flames of life
with my frosted breath on ice
rolling dice that the fires of hope
might resurrect the Fallen’s soul

The last days of ending Hope
might see the Sun go down
but yet still must we close our eyes at dusk
giving up the rays of truth for blinded hope

Nightingale if you bring your light
show him where his path should lie
lead with song and fluttering wings
the verse that sings the rhyme

Lead him lost if else to me
tarry not his stumbling toes
swift wings fear not jagged rocks
nor icy river floes

Wake him if need be from the numbing cold
crush the latticed ice
let the pale lips blush with redness
and the fingers hold the quill

fly oh Nightingale fly to him
searching with heartbroken songs
bring the wizard his woven wand
let the necro’s curse be born



anyway my short reply


=another sunrise=

Overcast the sky has been;
Wayward clouds gather restlessly
beneath the gloom, an ominous calm
betrays a false uncertainty.

Vaguely does the sun, obscured,
splinters the sky with guarded rays;
Burning blue and greying warmth,
confusing dark and scattered grace.

Amidst all, my lonesome winds converge,
swirling clouds and shifting rays unsure.
Oh, though they all in passing change,
yet the sky before turns no more azure.

Sunset passes and so it rains.
No wind or lightning but only rain.
Even rain shall end and stars emerge;
Relics of some bright and faraway pain.

What strange clarity in darkness true:
Moonlight reflected as in a dream’s demise
surpasses the rays of a morning passed
in sadness, as the sky neglects another sunrise.