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.
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