This is a poem I wrote back in middle school, after I read The Lord of the Rings for the first time. I had forgotten about it completely, but while digging through my room the other day, I unearthed it. Though some of the rhymes aren't exact, and the rhythm's kind of fickle, I think it's aged rather well.
The story is that of Trevaryu, a somewhat melancholy seer of the nomadic Bewoun tribe, whose lover, Eibann, went to war. While he was gone, she had a vision of herself wasting away