There sat the dark lord

Habe kürzlich „Beren and Luthien“ von Tolkien gelesen, welches viele Gedichte enthalten hat. Ich habe mich auch mal an so einem Gedicht versucht…

on iron throne, below the ground
where green nor light was never found,
the dark lord sat and wailed there;
in dwelling thought: he sat and stared

and pondered of the light and flame
he never had; which never came
to show him ways of love and song
to sing him when his hope was gone

so long he tried to weave this gown
which given to those born in light
he wailed to find it in the ground
but never came; nor hold him tight

and always from his hands was blown
by winds of fortune, on its own
to flicker and to flew away
to leave him like a stone and say:

„you are not worth of love and light
you hold it strong and hold it tight
so strong that it may break from thee
and therefore it will part and flee“

the lord, he felt betrayed by light
and wondered why his lonely night
is not allowed to sing the songs
like time his grip is holding on

while looking in his caverns night
he count his gold, and count his might
but on this treasures offering
there never was a true love thing

„oh darkness, oh my friend of mine
i will become like you in time
i will be dark and will be strong
so strong that none will do me wrong“

he knew of times when he was fast
remembered of his deeds of past
was he transformed to think he is
a master of his ownest wish?

it never came to him before
that he was only mere a pawn
of higher lord, of higher sky
he frowned and gave a soulless sigh

„you made me like no other song
and let me see the mystery
of life and love and light and flame
but not for me as destiny“

the dark-lord dwelled in truth along
without a meaning nor a song
he sat alone, he sat there lost
for those he hoped, the highest host

Oldest forgotten offering, remembrance
of a long forgotten king
in his mind and in his hope
betrayed by highest of the old

Why did he seem to be the highest son
of oldest sweetest, first forgotten
in his most needed, most riddled claim
he was defeated, and leaded astray

Senseless in his seemingly unseen sight
Searching for meaning in his deepest night
grasping his truest given rhyme
only he was seeking, silence left him blind

caverning caves building them for protection
against the truth of him being forsaken
by father in heaven, forever betrayed by those
which he has cherished the most

misconstruction by the one which constructs best
like a joke on him, to be the only one
in the mold; that can never have the thing
which only he sees the best

the best seer, to be wounded and forsaken
the grimest reaper, to bring pain to those
gifted by the one and only maker

he will take this making in his hold
for bitterness will not be further told
he sweared it now, he sweared it grim
„for you i will not bow or dim“

„my light is black and is my own,
from void and darkness i alone
shall take that which i only see
and fear because not mine to have“

„and see it now, and see it clear,
its triumph: my destruction claimed
i will not bow and will remain
to play this – life and death, this game“

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