Sons of Fire and Blood by Ar-Feiniel

Forging Gold

Kanafinwë Macalaurë - Maglor

The forgotten minstrel, written in the style of epic Greek/Latin poetry. 

Sing, O Nienna,
Lady of Woe
Of the cursed fate that drove
A valiant people across
So wide a sundering sea.
They, who fought unceasing wars,
Won deeds of fruitless renown,
At least returned for aid
In rags, deep despair.

Weep, O Valie,
Lady of Sorrow,
For the forgotten prince,
The cursed kinslayer,
Once a gentle minstrel
Spurred on by the wrathful Oath
Of his dread father
Until from high majesty
He fell to dark and horrid deeds
And now wanders as a shadow,
Mist-haunting, dropping vain tears
Into the thankless sea.

The lone survivor,
The forger of gold,
The proud commander
Fading into the fog of time.
Dead, yet walking eternally,
Living, yet wilting
Like a plant drowned by blood
Alone on a desolate plain. 

They say his voice was fairer
Than threads of molten gold,
Than streams of laughing waters.
They say his fingers caressed the harp
As morning dew clings to spider webs.
They way his words wove spells
Like silk across bare skin.
And when he sang,
That fair unblemished face 
Lit up like a bright flame
And basked all listening creatures
Into that warm halo.

He is Macalaurë,
The Mighty Singer,
Greatest minstrel of the Noldor.
And he is lost.