The echoes resound in the chamber immense
Hewn in the Misty Mountains depths.
Its floor, a lake of waters unknown
The darkness of ages reflects.
And the azure presence of the penumbral light
Whispers fears of a forgotten tale.
A beam of reluctant light reveals
An isle in the sombre lagoon.
A sinister, creepy, despondent silhouette
Outlined in the twilight of gloom.
And the dire cry of a creature in pain
Awakens the bowels of ancient Mount Doom.
“My precious! My precious!” the echo goes forth,
The hesitant air, unwilling to flow.
It travels through fears, and omens and thoughts
Of beings long hoping the ring’d be lost.
And the buried legends of forgotten pasts
Revive by the desperate cry of the voice.
Two yellow eyes the darknes disturb
Piercing the space with daggers of greed.
A sudden suspicion has come to his mind:
“It was nasty hobbit who took our gift.”
And the new hobbit bearer, treading into light
Begins the long journey of Sauron’s demise.
(2010 ) Erica Yanina Luján
Erica's Blog 