Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) Title: Cosmological Poems of Arda (#4603) Author: AaronAzrael Chapters: 25 Archive: Tolkien Category: The Silmarillion Description: I would like to share my revelations of Tolkien's Universe in the form of narrative and emotional poems. Published: 06 Aug 2022 Updated: 06 Aug 2022 Warnings: Type: Mystery Characters: Morgoth,Sauron,Eru Iluvatar, Chapter 1 - Morgoth Bauglir A crystal ember, of redemption fulfilled desire of an everlasting soul a newly heartfelt comprehension that gathered all to purify, bestow my hopes in a goblet of chants that knows no limit in its breath if death is birth, then a deviant of evil will crystallise like meth ill, corrupted, emanating chills that lure with a Demiurge passion there are always two types of pills ones that bring poison, others - compassion; I live in the dream of the Ktulu but I have awoken in the Titanlands with my first breath I already knew you the Sea is a movement that can revive sands Explosions can be good for an innocent Soul if there is a Party in the Aromatic Vessels with neon lights impaling skies, it's all controlled but chaos is Alchemy primordial and an ancestor. I believe that I can fly but gravity refrains me as a fragment What's immortal, can it die? if the guardians mistake a sacred moment? Trinity, you were born today but when was born the Evil Melkor? The void belongs to yesterday and I dare not open this door I will see an eye unholy and I want to wake a tears waterfall what is the meaning of sorry when the aum goes deep in the low I have heard inexplicable twists the primordial matter of black unmanifestus veins with pitch black blood, thin wrists that hold an Aura of an Unknown Animus And it sings Tell me why I'm waiting for a bell to wake up my new life force energy I'm a Legion, an Infernal well A cluster of unborn sadistic tragedy I am what you never see as it has never been born the death in empty eyes, a Devil free of form, of name, of mourns. Mourn now, to exist! Alas, the Evil has no tears of crystallisation God loves paradoxes, the breath of bliss! A Balrog of Morgoth blows the Bauglir to unkown ascensions... And it sings "It has begun. The east will fall. So shall the Kingdom of Angmar rise. The time of the Elves is over. The Age of the Orc has come. " Chapter 2 - Eru Iluvatar Sacred centers are beloved portals when activated they acquire names so called chakras that create immortals is the Soul created from Eternal Flames? What does a chakra emanate when it inverts its Christic codes originally pure theurgic plates Is this what the Morgoth loathes? The crown! Pillars are the spikes but the silmarils do bear magic the glory of the desecrated lives will turn Evil into form mesopelagic Ulmo Though Almighty Vala! Tame your wrath and quench him water Waters are the Mother's Life-Formating Power Transmutation? No, forge him from the Ocean Alma Mater! Go, thou Black particle unmanifested darkness is the haven of the curse also an unbiased nest for the divine harvesting Dark Matter fills the void with Life force first Don't die on me, Morgoth! consuming your Self means One True Death I know, you shall eternally Rott but eternity ends with your last Breath Have you breathed under the Corona? Have you ever cried so pure? Evil is a cluster Non-Persona that knows no I, just imitates to lure when I look in the eyes of the Mala I can see an ugly crackling worm combining Haunts with the Caballah disintegration that no one can become Are you proud, thou, Morgoth? Do you deem yourself Evil Itself? Do you love distortion accumulating sloth? You have died; I see this well. You do not exist; your grin is hollow the crown of Twists knows no face But the silmarils are stronger than you know once inserted in the crown, their Grace shines bright; you cannot touch it but they shine with Lights of Holy Grail you rotten crystal meth, you rancid Alchemy Go, Black Void, prevail! Deeper than the ocean Music of the Ainur syncs with Thee All perversion gains a new tone and sings unbreakably in harmony redeemed. Sweet dreams, day seven, balance is thy nature. Eru Iluvatar, before All, Vieni and Sync! Morgoth's heart is cold as glacier as Cold as Love when ceasing to sing but holes are true unholiness infected, rotten, gaping mouth desolating is the loneliness when you roam down Mordor's south.. Eru Iluvatar is Morgoth Bauglir the one Avatar that knows no life The Multifacet God as Spiral Whirl the Nothingness was gifted eyes. Once it Sees, the Breath Eternal Declares Faithfully: "It's done!" The Music assimilates the Infernal and the Falling Angels are reborn. Complete synchrony in Seventh Day. The guilt of God is Holy Wrath Free will and Creation's perfect play allowed torture in the Name of Sacred Math. Forgive me, Newborns! You old souls! Eru Cried forevermore I am evil, I imagined foul theoretically inevitable are my shores I love you dearly and kindly! I remember all the pain! Forgive me, I believe you blindly! I cried out of guilt and evil in Melkor's own domain.. When God is in the Void, experiencing evil They understand malice simply there IS he swirled it and accumulated all its levels I don't want to choose The Mogoth's own abyss! I understand evil; therefore evil I am! so I will experience it in my mind inevitably I will transmutate the One ... unless I go Blind. Chapter 3 - Fingolfin A starry ruler observes with pride from a fortress of the North that shines but a half-pale shadow so black as a tide slides on his chin so bountiful on the outlines, without being able to enter inside him through his shell, impenetrable Mithril, when a helmet he puts on, skyly brimmed he glistens as the gleams of angels' will. Oh, but beyond the plane of Ard-Galen, the Lord of Murk lurks and hides, where it won't ever be bright - in his den. Twilight under chilly and spellbinding stars; Noldor hills are fortified; Thangorodrim's places so mysterious and far, winter night was petrified. The elves faced what they did reject so fervently even; as they Death allowed not to bid to enter their thoughts, they believed in a truce so brightly resounding; that their immortality a fellowship is, they were created to be surrounding their realms with honour, beauty, to kiss with youth eternal their wise hearts every sincere notion or deed; they are also brave, when fighting wars dignity shall they retain, so freed. Yet ignorance so doozy sweet dimming their elven eyes of co-creators is just an omen for hidden deceit before being forced to face warfare; instead of smelling atars. Yes, I see that the discord always came from the borders Sauron and Morgoth the Lord are pest, nesting in spider webs; arming Orc orders. The Feanor family branch opposed; as it was ever so haughty, self-convinced, only Angrod and Aegnor did suppose so clearly what shadows planned to mince. As their Lands so Fair fronted Thangorodrim so dangerous, they were horrified by this lair, a premonition, clenching their hearts - so canorous. Yet Morgoth finally attacked; he spurred rivers out of flames and Balrogs, he stormed so unexpected and pitch black, and Elven ones did suddenly perceive the odds. Too many of the Noldor so beauteous, did not manage to escape so energetic, even their swiftly and merciful legs didn't cope with those lava dense gushes as to outrun; they burnt aesthetic. The Fourth Battle Great, foretold by a winter of music melancholic, was an insight of Fate for goodness unachieved initially, metabolic. Dagor Bragollach, oh, combat so epic! The enemy's army is approaching near; they conquered the fortress High of this epoch and the Noldors they gutted and cut their ears. The action did not calm down; but Morgoth finally withdrew and dispersed; snowdrops in the hairs and in the crown; the hellish energy of Glaurung so cursed, a dragon, originator, that spews fire and sulfur out of its maw, and the High elves agonised so bad, sent to Mandos' Halls to wait for the shieldless one ~ at dawn. Doriath sheltered some survived ones, Thingol gave them support and cures, others to Osiriand so forestal ran, even beyond in the wasteland obscure. The Sons of Fingolfin, valiant heirs, weren't saved; they died in the war; Fingon and his father acquired mortified air, as they were defeated; and lost their Family core. The war was ever worsening, even for Feanor's sons, the regions of elves were burning, holy lands ruined to ashy sands, all was engulfed - oh, passage of Aglon, the noble elves retreated and hid, whoever used a horse, whoever tried to run, Fingolfin has heard they even Dortonion undid. Then he was overtaken by fury, honour's pride that burns so high, due to Morgoth the Enemy he had to bury his kin and family, the desecrated wives. An impetus of royal soul made him challenge the King of Evil in his own domain so foul, Morgoth heard the roar and felt so feeble in the face of the King's growl. Fingolfin started approaching him, just like the storm of dust in the hooves of Rochallor, the stallion brave and Morgoth so grim did not dear move, as he was terrified to cross the door. Fingolfin did at last stand before the gates of Angband black and caged, he uttered "You King of Cowards in this Land!" and Morgoth heard him, got enraged. So Bauglir got outside as an Ogre, tall as a Giant, armoured in black, Fingolfin attacked him, therefore he would either win, or get dreadfully smacked. Fingolfin started jumping around, so invisible and so elusive, Morgoth was swinging Grond so bound, the Hammer of the Underwold Abusive. Deep wounds did the Evil one get, his leg got crippled ' forevermore ' exhausted he unleashed Ground and it was said that he Hit the King and turned him into gore...! So sadistic and arrogant Morgoth, with a heavy inhumane foot stepped on his head and his pineal gland, so sacred he turned into twigs of blood. The whole Middle Earth and Beyond echoed with torn soul, as a howler, all Elves felt that happened by Grond, the most dignified king was dead, outpowered. Never in the times to come so hurting songs wouldn't honour his memory, as this is too heavy a burden, it killed even mourns of emory. So this is how Fingolfin died. The most noble and brave among all Noldors, a King so Dignified but Torondor of Manwe Swished its wings and he shall grab the corpse in process of defiling, it carried him to a cliff so unreachably up, with view to Gondolin, with reconciling influence and breaths held before the air at the top. Thurgon travelled there out of the duty of a son he turned the place into a hillock so the limping Morgoth wouldn't dare spread his sound even with his thoughts, as it's a shock what a power emanated is from the grave of Fingolfin beloved; secret reflections scatter bliss... The memorial stands there so proud of; And everyone shall always his Presence Seek and Miss. Chapter 4 - Fingon A mysterious wanderer Do I dare know your name or daith, You truly shine like conqueror of Justice in the name of Faith. Cross! Sword! A crown...! Echoes of utterance beyond starlight Beautiful cosmic gown is swirling "Nas ne dagoyaat!, We'll Fight! Fight in the name of Defense and actually overwinning we are Overlords, commence The Epoch of Of I Amar, beginning! I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae a han noston ned 'wilith. He vanished. A misty story ~ and beyond. Unreal vision, and plenished silver armor ... and a bond. For the first time, aweing, unknown, comming from nowhere, I'm here, oh, crying, marvelled at your noble glare. Kiss me! You sing out with a shouting tone I'm here without my Crown of Noldor or a Throne. I am the King! I have been reborn I see your angel wings You deeply mourn. Mourn for me, My Lady Queen! Mourn for Gil Galad! Mourn for what has been! Of him a harper, sad, sang of realms so fair free, and noble-born. Like my Spirit, my heir, He rode away; Oh horn! Shall he ever return? With his long sword and lance so keen? He once again, in darkness burnt, Is somewhat ... to be seen. In an eye so blue and cold in a lake with vapour icy, he wandered, once more bold, the same silver glacies. His eyes - Fingon I see, in the heart - his son - so Free...! King of the Noldor, mirroring his armour - stars , Last Free Kingdom, with an odour, Of Quartz..! He shall be a King no more, but there's rumours to be spread, that legacies forevermore Will meet; as they have bled...! Bleed, as you are Brave! In the darkest of Red Eyes to disappear is not a grave! Fall, oh, you Emerin of Skies! Chapter 5 - Sauron I reviewed this chapter and decided it is inappropriate. I could not find how to delete it. Chapter 6 - Of the Darkening of Valinor My dear.... my beloved, Light of the Almighty Source, A Life Giving Dream of Protection, as it is more than a Force. Can you imagine captivations in Morgoth's antilight den that wrings when you lost all hope in damnation, salvation is all you awe, for it welfare brings. Living on an isolated plane.. where all the gore is normalised wars are means of winning, bane is considered to be civilised.... But when you die, what happens? Oh, the bliss of Multisphered Shires You realise what holiness is, dark ends are also unmanifested; eternal is the fire. Laurelin, Thelperion! Bringers of the Life! You prepared for celebrations so merry, on a day that Triumps the Skies. Fruits, fragrance and music, abundance, gratitude and smiles, cherries, apples and fluids transcendentally communicating while everyone was cheerfully preparing to manifest a new good will as sacred as the hearts of those caring having faith in the Plan so Absolute, it thrills. Everyone is merriest; only noble souls in harmony, egregore, floating around in God itself - this fest was meant to be unison but ... suddenly... an Error! Ezellohar, the Trees you nourished! But Melkor summoned himself - as ancient as the Warps, he speared the holiness, so hellishly gorish, AntiMetatronic Flower sucked to feed his corpse. Sight, sound, and will, usually agile. It shattered them all, as they lost. The Light was desecrated ... so fragile.. The Void was occupied by a Parasite host! No, No, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Orome and Tulkas' mission failed warriors of light, where did you gooo?? When your hopes get shattered, and THEY HAIL??? DO you know what it is like to be responsible for the divine protection, so the Holiest realm, before it could sprout, like a child was murdered; for resurrections. I.... ohh..ohh mmyy... whh-h-at happened? I ... why.. why could I not defend? Tears of desolation, so damn polite... Muhaha. ... Morgoth grinned. "Your trees - they had to meet their end !" Chapter 7 - Feanor Behind an arc with glowing curtains a dove is flying, tired wings, where you are He is uncertain you girl with dress so red, that sings. when the ships emit a spark eyes of ghosts in the ocean's domain would they consider it dark to turn the mermaid into foam of pain would be great for their low honor drapery so torn by claws, alienly fey, it's like sorrowful news spread by a caller; yet fashionably stony graves just weigh. the eyelids are closing, so dozy, they are sweet like honey of gold. burning out so cozy like they want to die before they're old. three stars in a crown so new like a mirror Einaledge Above them flies a snowy owl with a trail of yearning pledge. as there isn't anything more fair than a remorseful young man so sad with raven feathers in his lively hair married to his dreams, so glad. he didn't know how he got immersed in fixated passion to sink a brothered ship the lights of two trees-temples dispersed drinking water from the prince's tears; drip to turn into opals, that shall, from the dark corona observe him as a cathedral, purebloodness coolly waiting with aroma, as they're silmarils, untouched by killers, but not as crystals ~ in his eyes that are souls. they are portal mightily defending pillars. The prince is silent and cries, observing his goals. Chapter 8 - You Died In Explosion A tender smile on a strong face with a cheekbone so acute Are you reconsidering your ways, now that the past weighs down your route? An Elve has a tender heart, beauty and fine scenery define him, even when pride burns as art, and corrupts his intentions within. I like it, how innocence blushes healing your cheeks of a child; I want to return home, it pushes me, and I go desperately wild.... Have you ever abandoned a woman? A wife even, that bore you kids? Did you swear an oath to your adolescent men, your kin - destroyed - purity it needs. Maglor sings at the seaside And let him be gifted with God power; actually God's power does hide inside each soul that unleashes; the hour has come. Oh, Elbereth! Let Manwe's Light protect our Faiths! Our bravery always lets Lack of disbelief to stand its grace...! Once Sauron sung to incite disrespect of the Almighty Power Holy and Tender inside, The Light Throne Naive is Not; Our Lord that knows Mercy and Forgiveness. We shouldn't feel guilty or let go of our way to instill purity and respect as to witness how every starlight becomes brighter each day... Feanor, oh Crafter! You talented with wisdom Royalty! Unleash your childish laughter remember the origin of loyalty! As there is One Rule to Keep them All One Rule for Each Elve that Exists Never Betray a Brother of Kin, as it shall enthrall synchrony to become unenchantingly forgetful of remiss.... Love me under the starry night on snow as white and shiny as your soul Let your Fire become Pure Light... May your Eyes never get Low! Not Low as an earthquake or the witchhouse sounds of Creation But it is said that you shall wake, regain your Arisoticracy through new chelations... If I could give you a gift I would draw a card of remembrance for the ships you've drowned so swift, believing in the Purity of Silmarils without ascendance... You believed that Varda did protect them? Yes, she did - she put a shield But their Souls communicate with you and then from inside they your emanations wield.... So much desecration, So much sorrow and pain... Could it be that damnation leaked inside from their inner domain? So I will crown you now, you firstborn Son! Of Finwe's House, a genius; Let them be purified with your tears pouring down... Glass pigmented soul selenius! I will sing in Noldor speech let it tenderly affect my mouth so it can naturally come out as to teach us of the New Ways that are so Explosively Couth! I heard you ended your life path by explosion so abruptive and demonstrative Let generations sing of Feanor's loving Wrath! For your eternal choices I deeply Grieve! Oh Elvenson, you are a Legend and Today - I wonder where you are I just know you decipher it all, but vengeance is an equal of War. Ascend, my Love! And remember the Queen's bidding NEVER hurt your Kin of Dove! But it shall not be a law forbidding... It shall be a feeling from within and above... While we dance, we started swirling and the Sky got lost in our Dreams So Creation exquisitely twirling shall create Silmaril Moonbeams... Aia María quanta Eruanno Hail Mary, full of grace i Héru aselyë the Lord is with thee aistana elyë imíca nísi blessed art thou amongst women ar aistana i yávë mónalyo Yésus. and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Airë María Eruo ontaril Holy Mary, Mother of God á hyamë rámen úcarindor pray for us sinners sí ar lúmessë ya firuvammë: násië. now and at the hour of our death: Amen! Chapter 9 - High Priestess I found a policy discrepancy and I am not sure how to delete the chapter. Chapter 10 - Annektar In a forging place of stone black and blue like Celebrimbor's eyes I smell mysterious cologne and steel clattering; soul-wise. Aule, mindblown, observes a new alchemic process; Mairon's blood swirls through a crystal in the chest to fluoresce. Annektar's spirit being forged with Christic energy never before seen; shall it go boring, as a lore? No it shapeshifts; activate the lien. Immunity, but also Free Will. Has another one bettered His Creator? As even Aule lost it, ill, he thought that Mairon was eternal traitor. But Celebrimbor, as Feanor's heart pulsates, is genetically predisposed; It is not that the rings were baits, he did it out of pure desire to own those. Yes, I saw him walking so assertive, confident and strongly proud, He conveyed to me Vilya so furtive, was it Annatar or Noldor Lord? Yes, the Elve shall manifest. As Sauron won't fall to doom; yes a doom but epic; Black Speechy at best; You shall give it but to whom? Does she ever keep the secrecy? Or is she the secret itself? An Elve is an Elve - so pretty full of decency! Explode and Die in flames, New Self! The result is Unknown and this is the point the Abundant Universe of Forms It shall never disappoint! Supreme alchemy - Eternal Warns! Sing for me, as even the Allfather had lost hope for his spirit's survival yet Always full of Faith; so gather, Sauron, you bloody rival! I simply Walked into Mordor. Crushed the Gate with Atomic Waves Then I Swirled Sauron, Between middle Earth's borders, Creation - Go !, and Forge Ablaze! Chapter 11 - Shoemaker I found a policy discrepancy and I am not sure how to delete the chapter. Chapter 12 - Melian Yavanna washes her hair with a conch that sparkles multicoloured, and the Sorrow of Melian is musing there, in Valinor's Gardens for Love of Her Lover. She surpassed them all with Beauty and Wisdom of Her Inner Third Eye An unknown little child's unachievable dream soothed, befriended him, creating skies. You know how to act the Goddess, Lady! Love worthy to capture time in stillness, spellbound in visions of Amour ~ "Zaydi..." As we know, the Light Land the shadow illness cures, when living it out in the magical world of your manifested dreams, and Melian knew it all, without even waiting for the Hour to Come with Hymns. "Swift tidings, and a world changing, No Man Shall Cross and Enter Doriath, The echoes reached her, without an ending, a healing blush sprung from her cheeks' path. "Don't worry, Melian" ~ An innocent girl approaches her from astral projections; This is not the end of the World, and she Looked in her Eyes with reflections... Melian is One with Faith... And Her Love will be immortally Young. Nobly she saw a cloak over the Wraith, and She Said: " This song shall be sung even when the Middle Earth Has changed And this happened as of Urantia's Today of December She observed the Show and suddenly in range she perceived His Presence ~ oh, Elu Thingol Remembers! Chapter 13 - Sauron Met a Strange Fairy "Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Bilbo, Frodo, and even Sam" Where Frodo said goodbye to Legolas and Aragorn Merry and Pippin, he tried to feel the future-born peace, as he was smart; Valinor he did perceive already, alas, from afar he sensed the black shadow that qui vive. Oh, the lingering sensation of how would Arwen die turning into a river in a dimension where no life could continue, it cried. It actually was the blue-eyed rather athletic Gollum that heard the truce behind "Balrog of Morgoth", oh, hm! What does the Light, when Gandalf entered at the fifth dawn, meant, for in fright the balrog got prolonged as a trumphething sound. Whoever knows the Elohim, would actually understand that each sound is intention within, that resonates with soul and stance. So, Frodo actually felt how the end of the fellowship of brothers couldn't be separate, as wealth true the story of the Rings did father. Yes, once upon a time Celebrimbor~us was the elve of Sauron's initiation where the rings were crafted, now a thorus swirls around sparks of blacksmith creation. Yes, whatever you hit between fire, metal and stone, does forever give life to it, whatever is underneath born. A mysterious lady in white, with black hair so unknown, visited the brightening sky, where Sauron's volcano's grown. Where it erupted, a mystery for boggling minds, how is it possible something by him corrupted to be destroyed in his work, but it finds itself very so known in mind, At Least in Gandalf and Galadriel's ones of thoughts, what did they feel when then the plans unwind before their eyes, as it future it beholds. This lady so alien appeared from nothing, she was also sapient, an Elohim of something. And she felt once upon a dream, when she was creating divinations, that it would actually seem, that this One Ring's creation was actually powerful as it hid Elven script, that emanated also Celebrimbor's blue colour, full of power seeking dominative crypt... Well, she was too smart, so she projected herself there, she entered blackened cooled down lava and toward it she inclined her hair fair. She saw inside the remainders and a roaming soul inhaling gluttonously souls of the ambience and the finder of the new Sauron's plan she was; she caught his ghoul. She immediately chained him; black-mattered steel around his skin; his blood-red hair was falling so dim but actually shoutingly bright from within. She laughed at him and started singing, enchanted him with unknown powers, as she his image attained and was blinking with elven-like source faye; it showers ashes contained in frosty manna drops but inside the fuels burning that dimmed the skies of Mordor's top, and she was slowly turning into an Elve of The Noldor Kind; she was chanting and hailing and he couldn't possibly unwind what a spell her words were portraying. She was a Mirror of Himself and he saw what he could also be from afar, she joked: "Please ask yourself, Annatar, how predictable you are!" And she lured him with her moving eyes as a witchy queen of elven forests in the form that Sam saw once in his highs, and he was intrigued, and so surest. Then, she led him at the ocean sands, where he didn't even this time feel Ulmo's threat, as her cheerful chants were moving his legs like wheels. She turned her back to him; her hair - was super straight and falling, and she acquired angel wings, and she didn't catch her face during her mysterious calling. What she evoked, what she created, in a synesthesic twists and whirls, she slowly started rotating ... he was fated to make a Choice and face her Facial Thrills. Oh it was said, that she normally had a face of childlike purity and passion but had she turn around to sound in that direction, everyone trembled so ashened. As no one, no one ever could capture the mysterious glare coming from her eye, left intuition, and they knew... it would be a rapture if she ever turned fully back to her normal position. Chapter 14 - The Second Music of Creation As Morgoth was landing high, from snowy fortress reigns, above Angband's welled-black starry sky, he silent does remain... and he starts singing bliss..... from the top of his dreams on a pike, where it raining is with mysteriosly shining gleams and it goes...: "I forgot that I might see So many beautiful things I forgot that I might need To find out what life could be Beautiful things Take this happy ending away It's all the same God won't waste this simplicity On possibility Get me up, wake me up, dreams are filling This trace of blame Frozen still I thought I could stop Now who's gonna wait? So many beautiful things So many beautiful things Now what do I do? Can I change my mind? Did I think things through? It was once my life It was my life at one time" (quote from BXVUTIFUL THINGS - MYSTXRIVL) So he flies away from there as a vampire pouring blood from his teeth as holy essence; flair, his floating mantle floods the region with icy snow falling stars from his cosmic cloak that is; who could ever know that the Earth would kindly soak in a very thin and gentle layer where he instilled; wishes and promises fair, as a God good-willed... Then he reaches the end of the Angband lonely field and it above the ground went, teleported itself to wield the upper terrain so lifeless in the first sign of new maintaining arrangements of Middle Earth's nest dimensions like stairs changing. Where synchronicity does run between the time corridors, where space can grow in shunned isles, or rivers or clusters... and doors. So he finds himself before a surprising portal that opens that leads to the ancient lore something unbelievable happens. He enters and feels inspired as to how empty it is void of Middle Earth's past shires and history so kissed. He feels it starts anew but this time Eru sings along He is the First Sound, the wheel and here goes the song..: "Thou shalt have no other Gods Before me Estas volando (despertad) Estas volando Estas volando (despertad) Estas volando And God said, let there be light, and there was light God called, the light day And the darkness, he called night The power, and, the glory... Glory, glory, glory Despertad, despertad, despertad, despertad, despertad... Thou shalt have no other Gods, Before me Estas volando Estas volando " - Shinnobu "Of Return to Mysticism" Immediately the song shapes his Utterance of Understanding, what does it Mean to create as the First Willing so Fate-ing. Yes, another God indeed, you shall not have ~ before me; as a Local Son to bid as Highest First, Fathering Thee. What did it feel for blackened malice that dwelled in the void of chaos that is mixed with the shadow chalice ... indeed for the Unbegotten's clause? When you believe that the Flame Eternal is somewhere nowhere to be found outside the Inner Spark of Whirlpools that is also sounds... The void, of Morgoth dear, is the primary unmanifested, the first tissue, so hear, shall it really be infested? Did you truly understand what is that does make you God? It is respect for lower life when you can abuse, but it is thought that it shall never be reached until you embrace humble compassion; even if it is the blackest pitch, remember the Ghosts' loneliness ashened before, when He resided there as the All that Unfathered is where you can create life to share with equals the immortal bliss...! And when you finally hear what you could be destined to be; the depth of melancholic nights, so dear, So the More Goth cathedrals you see..! Did you feel it when you uttered "Let there be Light" that it is not equal for battles shattered it's not about the dual fight day and night are just an expression of what was more compressed before; even united spiritual forms are, thereof, already separated from the core.... Did you feel the despair and hope one having reached it the Creating Flame, so dare be a God of Forms, Unique With Your own experience gathered; after You swirled under the crown the divinity that was fathered in Eru's first attempt, oh fragment son... Now that the crimes weigh down your burdened heavy soul You just blissfully shine and wow to the New Christic slow vibration of pitched down sounds homogenous and so alive and causating, the Ainur and the other ones start singing along .. The Second Music of Creation! "Ever since he can remember people have died in his good name Long before that September Long before hijacking planes He's lost the will he can't decide He doesn't know who's right or wrong But there's one thing that he's sure of this has been going on too long" - BL▲CK CEILING - Girl Money Chapter 15 - Melkor's Lies Peaceful races, gullible minds, full of innermost desires; playing with whatever He finds in their soul material, his magnifiers have never missed a spot; His Crown of Deceit carries burden, Fall in my hands, innocent thoughts, I'll plant there vices, they'll emerge in your behaviour and beliefs... you will act out of evil whims, My sound twists, it upheaves, it lures, inverting Holy Hymns. Feanor, oh Feanor Dear, who are full of disdain for me, you don't listen, so will you hear? Your own Hatred I shall Be. Your ear will become a portal, host of worms invisible of doubt and sin, you will lose your trust in brothered, and mortals will also be my Key to the Distrust Within. I'm lost in the visions of AntiTwists, alas, I have affinity to Pure Emanations, and I ... shall spread rumours, my gifts are Discord and War for the Kin... I'm so patient. Ancient Evil dawns upon you, Feanor, the Eldest son Successor, Fingolfin, Tirion you shall come to lose, Elves, For You the Mortals are Oppressors. Preferred by the Valar they Are, oh Immortals. They shall inherit Middle Earth's domain... Thus, ... be Lifted from your Hearts, your Centered Morals! Commence... Unrest of the Noldor Disdained! Chapter 16 - Eöl The Dark Elf of Beleriand Blacksmith-casted reactional spells, chemical behaviour of elements metallic; clatter, flames and melting smell, compounds and alloys, mixed and graphic. Ferrous iron, as black as His Soul, non-ferrous coloured low weight standards, Eol The Elf, He Did Quite Know, how to Yield this Science's hazards. He forged shining dark Galvorn, a metal inspired by Dwarven friends, hard as their steel but malleable, worn as suit of armour in the Woodland realms. Nan Elmoth, oh fairytale shadowed, a forest in Beleriand the East, for it somewhat peacefully gathered tranquil enchantments, powerful, at rest. Aredhel, oh Fair Beauty! Third Child of Noldors' Fingolfin, to his Marrow you soothed Eol, as he grew fond of you within. A heart of mirk and of shadows, as forestal and silent as the wood's trees, he cast a spell that was aglow to captivate your radiance, as the breeze would guide your presence always to the same labyrinth's end the Lost girl wouldn't find her boys Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Egalmoth - the band; but she would wander and roam, each pathway twisted in curves, leading her only to her future home... for He secretly Lures. This is how she Married Him - Eol the Elf, the Dark, a Child she bore, her Maeglin, her healthy son, her spark. But she started to harbour a lingering and sad sensation for she missed with ardour the brothers left behind; impatient... So they waited for the Tall and Dark to go on a new quest unknown and on an adventure they embarked... Maeglin escorted her; Disowned was he when his Father discovered what a treachery he had committed he pursued them, so burnt and bothered, for his Son his Wife had evicted. Eol was known for his Javelin Spears He tried to aim at his son but his mother threw herself and it Pierced her ... She died from her Wound. This is the glorious story of a bewitched and valiant Elf Yet.. Did he ever feel Sorry for Murdering his Family ...Himself? Chapter 17 - Maeglin Fair radiance and curly tresses, lips as juicy as exotic peach, Maeglin's heart silently caresses a desire that would turn to siege.... Pure infatuation it is called; but what a cursed fate indeed, lineage is said to forestall inbreeding despite Love's needs... "Would you ever be capable?" Somber insight leaks in... To create a family, a cradle... there's darkness in between. No, what resentful disdain would turn this frustration in vengeance and dominating stimulus vain to possess her for himself's dependence... Who knows what truly did Idril think of her Cousin's intentions but it is said, she on purpose, at will, avoided his malevolent tension... But it is as true as an Elven Heart, even if a Dark One you are, True was His Admiration from the Start, but Fate was in the way, bizarre. To observe from aside, dimmed, damp Soul tears are soil for Malice, it was not merely a Whim; But Rather, Real Love as a Chalice. Eol's heritage is hard enough, anyways; yet alone to compete with a human... Maeglin shall care for her each and every day... until Existence's over and beyond its blooming... Silent at his father's death sentence. Who knows what He truly felt; it was rather an understanding presence, for he has always dealt with Eol's possessive manners until he developed them himself but proud are Elven Banners... "To Hell with Tuor from an Elf!" Oh, this dreaded mortal, exuding such beautiful air, how did he cross this portal "to take my dearest he dared!" I disappeared for a while in Morgoth's dens unheard of and I returned with a strange smile and appearance changed, unsoft. This strange sparkle in the eyes and wicked bloodline so enchanted To her I dedicate my skies, who knows what's been granted in the lands hidden from the Light to accentuate this dreaded feelings, this horrible envied greedy sight of Tuor and Idril's wedding rings... I would kill absolutely anyone even Earendil, Idril's merriest boy, the son of Tuor shall be done, they stood in my Way, and it annoys.. But what does Maeglin see as he falls, His Life scenes run before his eyes, struck down Gondolin's walls Idril in All His Love... Forever he cries ~ He cries, the purest of tears, this was incestious - but accidentally! His Spirit - Elven, Fierce; The Fire consumed him mentally... This is the surveilling story of a yearning unfulfilled... And I am sorry... I'm so sorry. "Idril, it's just the Way you Thrill!" *disclaimer - it is cannon that Maeglin was in love with his cousin; Chapter 18 - One Ring to Rule them All Surely, it was the Evil Core that the Lord of Gifts so furtive embedded in the ring - the door to the AntiMetatronic dirt of Everything that is unholy; for He knew that it's the power chimeric of the offerings of nucleoli that can confuse a being, showered not by the Promised Abundance but with Reeking Excrement Acid immaculate plan, for all the bundles of inversion gather essences, for ashes infernal of the vampirism for Sauron did utter damned that he despised Varda's animism he spitted on her Light; Be banned! Yes, God's Light is Absolute; But I suffered demonic possession My martyrdom and insights fruit Christic power of Purity's protection... Oh, I sing Tinnitus for I somewhat awe it as well I make all your sigils ubiquitous manifest them through this well of resentment of the succubus sucking all to feed with blood disguised as jewels or stimulus ... but this Truth is brute. I activated the inverted Flower of Life as to let out the diabolic so it could be afterwards showered by the Elven essence that you vitriolic locked as the Alphabet Refined of the Elven Immortality of Souls for you all that eats away entwined in its Beauty to emit ugly ghouls... We all know what you wanted, Annatar, you Serpentongue, you managed it, as you enchanted abundance adamantine and unsung its divine alchemic powers... then to unleash the portal to Hell... I know, you intended the Hour of holes to destroy Life itself... But, Sauron, oh Sauron, I love how your music sounds, so I will sing all your tones mirroring your face, your bounds. May Fifth Dawn Brigthen Your Mouth this Evil Creature Symbolic that I saw in Mordor's South the key to rotten teeth of Moloch then a Holy Symbol irrevocable shall seal forever the Ring's hole after it's been emptied of all vocals that Sauron crafted in the One whole. On the very same stone it was crafted, that's where it can be undone, reversed... not destroyed, for this is how the flower shafted can activate its opposite of sucking curse... There I transmutated your magic, after living your very intention, turning it to Christic codes pelagic and then I seal it for prevention. What shall I do next? I shall Free Celebrimbor's possessive "I" as a Feanorian hexed but nonetheless an Elve of Virtues and of Holy Eyes. Let his true Elven essence inundate the Precious Ring to Rule them All Shape itself in the inscription and create defense of pure Regained Elven Walls This is how the claimed script so Holy of the Elven kin shall become an army that encrypts the Eternal Protection Within! "One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. One Ring to Burn intestines, One Ring to incite, One Ring to be Destined the evil darkness to delight. One Ring is Gathered One Ring is Transposed The One Ring has Fathered the Cure for All the Necrosed. The One Ring is fair, The One Ring is of Snow... One Ring... You shall forevermore Bear... the One's Perfection Unknown!" Chapter 19 - The Secrets of Ea Suddenly, a vision of Age First Amid the vastness of the time after Arwen's tears burst into the river that entwined All the experiences felt there, the Creation of Ea's within, all the glory honoured, fair, for All dignified have been. The 144 Elven Ones the number of Achievement for it's About their Dance when they Separate Went When the Ainur Avatars launched their Formating Design and Chose the Veil of the Stars to Offuscate as to Entwine. Yes, they were good at Cosmic Truths, and they had a Promise Golden, their Utter Success deeply soothes their Tears for the Evil Unfolding.... What a blessing, for it was rumoured that a Vision of Nan Elmoth was somewhere seen as ancient roamer and a Tower Crafting God. Clenching, clattering and lots of lava, sparkling, glowing and the metal Pumping Forgery in vena cava Deus Faber, fused, dissolving, never lethal merged together when molten myth creating, magic alive ~ ...but you need to be bold and ... Next time, please protect your wife. Barahir and Bregolas, I see your Immortal Flame, Mortals in Arda will eventually Last, a new teaching of marvels came. For it is always the Achievement, of the Absolute that's Relative, and it's the New Middle Earth Sacrament. New form of Immortality's imperative. They shall be respawned by Namo Mandos, in the Halls of Waitings echoed the Bells, and the Family that Wandered in this Source sought each other like new Selves. What an amusement... shall I see you? Each and everyone did think I miss you ... I terribly miss it, to be you, as it's the HOUR TO SYNCH In a new dance of Creation, the Second Music of them All, Melkor twisted his bettered Version... followed by a flood, rainfall... Oh, He Sings and Shows the Secrecy of the Deities that were so Veiled The Absolute is the One; His Frequency can be both Nothing and detailed. Sing, Sing, oh Melkor... Who Rises in Might. It swirls, Your Core. ... Yes. It's a beautiful Sight. Chapter 20 - The Era of Eagles The path appears before him dark, he feels a presence of fire, holily strong as orange-flame sparks, and suddenly, what a desire. He was a riddled ember of what he could have been but somewhat faded, lack of remembrance, and no intentions were there seen. He entered the cave, as brave and curious as fire in glory, and in him a melody wave unbiased followed him around the gory visions of phantoms that fathom whichever unfathomable for him is, emaciated by his destiny, his atom had joined the sound of twists. But there he got troubled by possession of such dread, amid insanity so shadowed he saw a Beast so Red. He was there, burning dormant, the wanderer got impatient within, as he wanted to hide in his enforcement or in his horned face, as he has seen that this beast salvating carried a sealing rock instead of snout, pulsating, he found himself in shock. He was the Beast, oh Willows, and Poplars of forgetfulness, what has he done, is it the sigils, or just bestiality as primordial chaos? He erupted as explosion, the way that Spirits of Fire expand, Legolas and Gimli were just proposing to Frodo where exactly he should land, nearby the sea, a Farewell, but the shadow in Frodo did live, and the recollected Balrog burst well with his Maia forlorn newborn gift.... Then the Fellowship were virtually insights, as their Third Eye so clearly foresaw how Mairon would there calmly lie with his head bended down, the hair .. just wow. Oh, how fast they ran, not meeting a single enemy, beneath an ample sky, not once felt there as a scenery... Barely did they sleep, captured, God, so light, eyes no longer wept of mourns and sad goodbyes.. Finally, in years, of silence, exaltation, their curious ears heard the song foundation, when they finally crossed the remainders of Minas Ithil in Mordor that was lost, the statue's flowers on a spring hill. They saw him there, Mairon, the fairest, leaning and his hair rested was, aorist... Sauron remembered her, the Maia, Arien that's uncorrupted by Melkor, who tried to catch her fire, but she was untouchable and unobstructed. Houseless his spirit roams, while diminished in the power, he restores himself, aums, gathers emanations-showers. What should they do next...? Doesn't Sauron ever want to be part of the gang, perplexed... well, Smoking Pipe-Weed shan't bother his mission of evil plans... but, oh wait, I like it a lot... what's this clueless damned chance.. but wait... what's next with Our plot? He looks above the Sea that links Aman to Hither Lands.. A girl is floating in the sky, she flees, from two colliding vortexes' expanse... As she was given a choice whether to fall in Ulmo's depths or straight to Morgoth's black hole's noise, she panicked could not choose a bet... She finally found out, both are too scary to be felt, Torondor at sudden appeared without any fear, so brave, as he smelt her appearance in Manwe's reign, in the middle of nowhere, the skies are also scary, when they ain't holy presence but Uranium spheres... She gasped, now eased and debtless, then she looked straight in his eye, the eagle commanded her respect, breathless was, she came to realise... One thing is certain there. In the Land of the Undying Sun... Nest three Air Spheres of Airmen, where... "The Era of Eagles has Begun!" Chapter 21 - Manwe I was roaming in the sky, searching for my memory, when I saw serious eyes, furrowed eyebrows cleverly reminded me of a phrase simple, it's called exactly eagle vision, that in sapiens I praise, I twinkle, for responsibilities divine and intuition... I heard the Manwe song, The Ainurs' Eldest One, the Chief of Instruments belongs to countering immaculate, the plan, that unveils slowly but steady, Melkor caused discord, but someday Unity'll be ready, compassionate at core. You, the Ruler of Arda, glow with Radiance so gentle, kind as the heart of Varda, your twin flame elemental... You are so good at your cord, that you initially deemed Melkor as sick with illness stored, you believed him, as you dream that his contrition is real, foretold to manifest... encaptivated, Melkor kneeled.... I saw God's Triunal light so blessed to be emitted with wisdom, the secrets of a God Creator and yes... your holy kingdom - is a righteous legislator. When I look at your Icon, I feel a desire to be purified, my innocence does lighten, controlled by healing sights... I love you, dear Manwe - I do plead. You .. are pure and an ideal. Please, don't ever breed with those who try to steal your essence ~ angel's blueprint; like Arien, the Lady that's Pristine. Your fragrance - healthy mint. Yes. Lord Manwe knows no sin... Chapter 22 - Finrod Felagund Shadow laying blame unfathomed, yet life still has to be lived; when a deed's been done by a brothered, probably you won't upheave... A curse on your kin is still there, even if you indirectly are involved, the lingering sensation do you bear for the Doom of the Noldor is foretold. You must have a strong heart. Separation of the family crestfallen weighs on the smiles from the day's start; yet you have the strength to call in choice ~ is it the beloved elleth or your people shamefully exiled? You shall bear a fate 'till death, for Aman was closed to returns reconciled. Even your father turned back home, mortified by Feanor's treachery, Amarie and Finarfin's faces you alone will remember when singing, in archery, when reading poems, or building realms, when taking decisions as a ruler just, yet could someone tell it overwhelms your heart as light as golden trust. Hunting with Maglor and Maedhros is definitely fun as always it is, yet what called your presence near those humans, that sang under the trees? What a different presence; the language was not acquainted; but the songs were a pure pleasance, for they honour radiated, untainted. What does a human of ageing crude feel in the appearance first in glance of an Elven immortal sage in prelude introducing his music, of Ea's expanse. A story of amiability and peace, as calm and legendary as the stars of that night of myths that quiesce, meant to end, memorial charms. He patiently learnt the thesaurus theirs, he taught them Sindarin and Elven ways, he got permission from Thingol's airs to guide them to Estolad, to meet new days. Barahir of Beor's House of humans, saved his life in the battle of Dagor Bragollah, where Noldor's doom is, he Gave him his Home's Ring he wore. Barahir bore a son, Beren. With Thingol's Luthien in love he was. Thingol told him to be carrying a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown because the Elvenking didn't guess this could ever be done. Luthien he promised, he professed ~ instead Beren would be gone. Yet Finrod helped Beren's Quest, encaptivated after all he got, in Epic Musical Battle it would manifest, But Sauron did better his lyrical thought. Gorthaur The Enemy of Wrong Clause didn't discover their purpose or names, so he left them at the werewolves' maws but Finrod's power gathers and aims to rupture the chains by his bare skin, this is the valor of his spirit and body, and he slew the canine with hands and teeth thin, but himself he got wounded as to disembody! This is how Finrod Felagund passed. Yet he to Valinor was back allowed. To be with Amarie, yes, at last! The wedding bells still reverberate the vow... The Undying Land retrieved its son. Happiness for the promised hearts... eventually True Love for once won... And this story is seen in all stars... Chapter 23 - Who's Eru Iluvatar? "Tell me, who is Eru the Creator?" Who has ever heard of him? Vague memories gave air to a space where the faded could sing, to create a world of itself's perfection, nothing could repeat the landscape, therefore, Eru's a Son Co-Ordinating the action point of the progressive attainment of fate. "Let's make a mortal of our image Own" The Father, the Son and the Spirit Holy proclaimed. The paradise son promised before the Father's throne to protect his realm from rebellions disdained. Therefore, if we think a little further into what the Father really is; He all-encompasses Havona, the preserver of All to be but not in the furtherness of his creation, for he gave the possession of power to the Sons of the Heaven, all bowed down to protect their processions. to create their own image unbreaking. This is the Bestowal Plan; the Father can enter through the Thought Adjuster; but not him, not the Son, fragmentation is how he can reach the lower clusters. Therefore, I must have been right, when I compared Morgoth to the Deity of Absolute; for the Real is the Void itself in all Its might trying to regain the fragments so as to compute who knows what wonder, who knows to what avail? But this is what I pondered and this conclusion prevailed. In the Plan of the Mercy Ministry, “Be you perfect, even as I am perfect", so the Void's black matter chemistry is Morgoth's heart to bleed and resurrect. I knew it, Eru's a local Son Coordinator! Although he resembles the Father, the latter gathered his powers to the centered nature, and gave way to the others, the sons brothered. For we know that the earthly creations are not of the likeness of the central isle, nor Havona and its habitants, these foundations are for the Time and Matter's worlds so wise. Eru resembles the father in full. But he's a son, therefore he's not Him in all. And the fragmented manifestations so cool, show that Morgoth was reflected with a wrawl. His own core he eradicated; so it could be transmutated; this is where it is rooted, to compute it; the uprisings were hence created for their inspection, agitation, for excitement and for epos, for education and frustration, and for the Melkor's equipose. No one can really tell which one of the two methods is better but giving life to hell can nigredo the blackness out in the weather. Just so you know, the fire's now disclosed ~ But the final Word indeed, is the Father's. So when the poem is finally composed. Will Melkor find peace, now that he power gathers? I doubt it, that it will free your sin.... Now that Eru is a local son, you can't. the Final Fire is the Father's within. But observe it for long and it shan't turn into disappointing fight forever; rather, a phoenix you'll be or even something new and better, as you're clever. I'm with you. And we shall see! Chapter 24 - Unless I go blind Is it eyes that the first instance gifted? Or it was a vision perceiving itself solely... In front, a Flame Imperishable shifted and twisted its unknownness how... holily? There is a spark in it, causing benediction. Otherwise it wouldn't have a starting point.. It would be a ghostly unachieved prediction that the Fourth attempt would disappoint. Isn't our God the fourth attempt? The Trinity that we revere like love, the very own immortality, exempt from death of falling apart, unworthy of. Isn't it a paradox? That it is a pure chance that we live? It is a cube, inside a clock, the Solution is simply destined to achieve. It is the Flower of Life; symmetry organised. The Perfect Way born in a primordial spin. Three Organisers failed to be immortalised; falling apart, no memory or nothingness within. Three attempts to fail, they are the hurt wit. Four is the number defining the monade. Three personas, the number of the Trimurti, the fourth swirls them afterwards, great. So Life has always been immortal. As the Flame Imperishable is. It is always now, yet through portals in time and space the Intellects whiz, in a sacred quest to expand as the One, the Eru Iluvatar collecting the fragments, 144 is symbolic, so it has to be done only the fourth time, to Love, hence. Divine the spark was born when number four started twisting with all it believed in; mercy, salvation, the aum source, the Lore, the Word of Absolute Reverberating sings. Yet when I hear the sound of the Source, I understand the Absolute is ever trinitising, and it is his Will, Plan developing, the force that arranges all in harmony, synthetising. What is the meaning to live without God? The one monoteistic comprised of the Three. The Father, Son and Infinite Ghost, the Lawed, that exceeds the expectation of the miracles to be. I don't want to exist in The Hell, where the Intelligence is pure evil. But we know the thought is so well known to create all tortures lethal. Therefore the profragmentation, among the Chaos that itself clashes twisted the evil intent of damnation with Ruckus' particle whose dangerous masses are both unimaginable fear to the mortal and the source of the Life that is One, and I see; the Other Organisers through the portal should thence enter to follow the Fourth Plan. This is allprecious and I do feel safe, when I look carefully around me, Lord. Everything is synchronised in waves circulating; all is Atum, and inward, nucleuswards protons and neutrons, outward the electrons' dance, the negatives bound, subparticles follow this model; so on... Creation swirls in Breathing's meditative sound. Inhale, Exhale.. Launch and gather. The First Mission is to Self-Achieve. But the Spark was Lit; and the Father, Son and Infinite Intellect do Live. We are the mirrored Reflections that bind the separation to the Unity. When you blame, the Perfection observes, you shall learn what community means; and it is to accept; to guide and enlighten, while learning, to pour life and to free will respect, the Dark are Our Brothers but burning. It is not exactly true this Truce in the human interpreted perspective; as above, so below; but the Fuss of Anger against Anger is not effective; It is not about the War we're screening between the Good and the Evil ours; Peace it is and it stays non-intervening, working along with the Devil's hours, that also swirl around HIM's Plan, dancing with the Plan of the Good, and they become a Christic One, combining the Last Piece withstood. The rest is just a fuss, a noise, two brains fighting through ego; and they think they are the justice's voice; but they are all the same... even. It is rather a model of Creation. The double twist that allows Kundalini, the Havona's twist that Protection Resounds from the Centre's One spin. Down and Up, Left and Right, a Vertex. the four Directions are outlined. And when you understand it's the vortex; the Illusion falls apart declined... This is all good. I feel relief, absolute humbleness and gratitude, manna in awe, and sometimes grief, desolation due the Vacuum absolute... But I feel something even more desolated from my within. It is one Paradox' very own core... what the Eru to be meant has been. Oh, you Dearest Morgoth, the Bauglir, the One Supposed to Rise in Might.. Yet Pride comes with Might, your Swirl would bring forward the Void's Fright. You, keeper of the Cosmos' Black hole, the vacuum, dark matter's Void, Real Absolute. Your first Sight was the Imperishable Soul, the Flame, your Achievement, the Single Unrepeated Route. Oh, the afflicting Divine frustration, that pushed you to Arda's Utumnow; Divine the Frustration, even damnation when it is, is a Sign of Developing Law. You didn't have a reason to exist. You opened your eyes as Unique Singularity, causating Big Clash that burst the Zero Density adrift, after launching as Eru through Real's Vortex, total Solitarity. What was your meaning to exist? When you observed the Flame as God; One. Content. Pure. "I Live!" I will create All Life from My Perfect Thought. Vacuum your Essence. Absolute Pitch Black. Dark Matter Before Organic Existence. Nameless, Voiceless, Formless, it Lacked Life, but it was Eternal, the Flame is twisting. You were content. As you were born greatest from Dead Nothing, without your Evolution's forms split. Your Pre-Reason's Singularity, accumulatest All Mass from Unexisting Pained Gas, dust and Plasma, Lit. Actually, it was Everything that Life was Born in. All that could be brought forward, all form; Beyond only the Perfect Vortex's only form in the Black Devoid Real, the Flower of Life grown as the Solution of the Paradoxes of Existence that was Afterwards, not the Absolute Life beyond forces; the developing spheres, the Fruitward. What an ecstasy it feels like. The Father that gathered All-Pressure. All pre-gaseous Star energy, to strike the Burden of the Zero, to Burst in Pleasure as the First Big Clash that Unleashed from the Absolute Point GodSuppressed; the First Inhale seemed forever, the Relief when you Exhale nothingness' burden to Rest In an Extasy allExploding such a Divine Satisfaction to feel.... The colours in First Cosmos were Floating... And to Him.. The One. It seemed Real. From now on, all would follow Evolution. Protected by a Lawful Word that Resounds. The Flower of Life's twist, the Vortex' opposite solution, The Grain of Po, the Spin, the First of the Aums. Breathe... Inhale and Exhale... The Point of the Life that Knows All. That has Ever Existed, but Veil it chose, to create it through a Law that the Singularity's only Chance is. Life Evolving through evolving None. But God Burst Out Born, and the Bliss of Life Born from Inexistance is One. Just as what on Earth we believe in, scientific. Organic matter evolved from primordial soup. But the physical laws are organised and strict, terrific, as to how they objective are to Chaos and Probable ... Cube. Ah, it Was Perfect. Followed Days Seven. And just as the Seventh approached, Morgoth woke up and annihilated, he deadened. He Saw he had Dreamt it, just Coached By another creature, a God of a Realm. Probably a Son's Sacred Quest in a Branch. Eru Iluvatar, his Creator's name, overwhelmed, Melkor found out the Flame was Only Eru's Launch. But it Was His Perfect Creation...? And He was all-Benevolent Creator. To coordinate all Processed, even damnation, unbiased, free-will-giving, and now a Subjugator turned out to have Created Him Out of a Flame He possessed; The Imperishable Simply gave him A dream unachievable, it caused His unrest. He burned to Black Ash, a Chaos of Evil. Creating Only Discord of Thought of His Own. Angelic Choirs their intent sang out but ex-primeval, Melkor Many of them dragged to his Crown. First, he caused Unease in the Music, a Second Time their Seduction Within... The Third Time, Eru's Echoed, Causing Oneness that Sticks... And Melkor could not disrupt the Hymn. Eru Iluvatar, The One that Is, The Mystery Unsolved in All Days, Lawfully the Word Uttered with His Might and Showed to Morgoth the Ways: "Mighty are the Ainur, and mightiest among them is Melkor; but that he may know, and all the Ainur, that I am Ilúvatar, those things that ye have sung, I will show them forth, that ye may see what ye have done." "And thou Melkor shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not it’s uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite for he that attempteth shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful which he himself hath not imagined.." Yet I stand here, dismayed. As I am surest of a Truth. The first Eru I saw and that waved to me was Melkor's Root. Therefore, there is a hidden depth.. beyond the fate of Morgoth, the Monster Devoid. Is it Evil swirling to accumulate it, wept.... And then to Purify Eru, assimilating the Android? If fragments get gathered, Life shall have Soul. The Spark Adamantine is the separation's own Flame. But there is a catch, there is one secret to know. Each fragment's responsible for completing this Game. They shall Fill The Vessel to Find We'd forgotten. We, an Organiser's Mind. We, the Forth Divinity Begotten. We ARE Unless We go Blind. Chapter 25 - The Dance of Creation “The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” - J.R.R.Tolkien Burning with hatred's incentive, his thoughts quite twisted with sins, corrupted his allies, inventive the only loyal one truly within. A massacre of the unworthy, where goodness guilty becomes; yet unpretentious his curtsy before the world's doomed homes. His mantle covers all currents, the might is still by honour touched, the glory insidious is coherent in terms of greater cause he clutched. Thrice mighty the brutality, annihilating slowly, it spreads, in the blood triumphing this reality where the unjust skin sheds. Beyond the obvious, a premonition. The remoteness with evil fumes, the impenetrable sky's ignition where smothery ashes consumes. What hope is to find there? There's some good in the air, the evil device yet knows where to attack weak rays that barely bear. Yet in peace is there progress? The mortals are grateful forever. Eternity is always to bless, even torture's absolute nether pushes stagnation to progress. Are we destined to appreciation? Yes, dire circumstances thrive. But today, doom's doom in patience of the Evil Eye preparing to obliterate life. Wrath and might are serious. Hypocrisy is not the One deceit, epic evil causes honour in imperious resistance shielded by its opposite wit. The Darkness of Fallen Might still emits glory to defend, and the black unmanifested fright leaves beauty to properly ascend. The narrowing of the Elohim in forms is already delusion, deceptive reactions within... So the opponent in conclusion whatever it draws from discord shapes all conflicts in identities that polishes the twist of wars of one's own reason; or amenities will push you to slumber of quietude but indifference in ambrosia is born. So Rise in Virtue, you, Challenged Magnitude, of Victims that in Homage have sworn. Oaths of Jealousy are always eager to wipe out; seemingly fair, to protect. But ... should Morgoth Imperishably trigger, in the End you'd the Flame recollect. The Void is the abundance of Causation. Otherwise you'd spoil the Light. And... should Feanor thank the Damnation? For petty become all battles without Might. Untouched is the epos of beauty. Beauty of interactive shapes dear... But... it shall be Middle Earth's duty. Corruption to defend from the cheers of simpletons' ignorance Leagueless. So veil, you Morgoth, unleash your wrath, there are signs of threats you can't Bless, with your Device keep Rule of Arda's Path. You shall observe other angle of corruption. Without a Ray that refracted Creativity. And after humiliation's end, the eruption of local Volcanoes shall purify Captivity. So for now, don't you ever disappear. The core's infused with new beginnings... But duality's coalesced in your dear corridor of Life's Flower... and misgivings are truly found in those clueless, yet arrogantly convinced in partial visions... But you... are true... save for your less merciful verity that forged your Firm Decisions. It's not fair, the end of the years. But it needs to experience, or does it? Truth resounds.. but an entity hears cocky self-promotion. Well, dominance has its way to remind you of your values. Grotesque is widespread in nescient fools. So let them mock... but the truce persists, so do Feanor's lighted cursed jewels. A core is a core, it decided to be tested. Yet Life's absolutely impartial in immortality... Yet... where spiders decide to nest sometimes Light gets consumed in fatality. Unbearable the losses you need to endure. But we shall rejoice Melkor's saved heart. And now... what's learnt turns to soilure and Greater Eru's plan for the Start. It spins, so Past is as relevant. Present's inevitable in Experience... So, Faith in the Future's effervescent, yet Pain Unbearably trapped in its residence. No, it's just a disgrace, when a heart loses aesthetics. Feanor's beauty's to embrace and crimes are a matter of ethics. Beauty, shine bright or dark. It doesn't really matter now. Don't get impressed by the mark that bothers you and don't you bow before something deviated in ways that irritate without afflatus... For what is all, we all created, but your soul has it's own status. And somewhat calm are the fortunate ones; they have never been a hostage of Morgoth; those who endured in bravery are young; glorified eternally, heroes of Valor and Oath. Let it be, it shall happen according to God's plan, that Perfect indeed is. But our responsibility is recording our personal role, to complete His. Have you had a laugh now, Melkor? Now that you look back with newborn mildness. No, despite it. It's embedded, your core. Killing can express itself, you've sworn, no kindness. Killing in ways that are provocative, different. Why should status que bore you to death? And this is how... he went. For the first time at desecration he wept. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 3:09 pm