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Visit The *EVEN NEWER* Barrow-Downs Photo Page |
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#11 |
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Spirited Weaver of Fates
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Fawian now warmed by the sweet wine, leans back and softly sings:
Gil-galad was an Elven-king. of him the harpers sadly sing: the last whose realm was fair and free between the mountain and the sea. His sword was long, his lance was keen, his shining helm afar was seen; the countless stars of heaven's field were mirrored in his silver shield. But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star in mordor where the shadows are. a single tear runs down her cheek, as she remembers the Elf who taught her that lay. She suddenly remembers where she is, she lowers her head and blushes.
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"Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live" ~ Mark Twain. |
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