As Time Wears...
"Death is their fate, the gift of Iluvatar, which as Time wears even the Powers shall envy." - JRR Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Of the Beginning of Days"
My brightest stars die. The fairest, hottest, brightest, bluest, are always the swiftest to die. Even the stars are dying - and I cannot.
Foolish Atani. The days of their lives pass like drops of rain upon sun-heated stone. They yearn blindly for immortality, knowing nothing of what it is they wish for.
Lómenáre, fairest of stars, blue as the sky of day, must you pass so soon? Yes, the blaze of thy death is brighter than all thy light in life: and yet I weep.
Yes, beauty that passes swiftly is always the fairest. But how many marrings can one soul endure? We Valar do not age. But we are touched by Time, even so. Time - the life of Eä, and its curse as well. How many stars may die before I too am changed? How many fires go out, until I too grow dark and chill? I am not as I was. Once was I Varda, great among the Powers, one whom even the Great Enemy feared to gainsay. Now I am but Elbereth, beloved of a dwindling people, unknown to the Secondborn. How long until I too fade, or grow cold as dark space, bright no longer?
My brightest stars die. The fairest, hottest, brightest, bluest, are always the swiftest to die. Even the stars are dying - and I cannot.
Foolish Atani. The days of their lives pass like drops of rain upon sun-heated stone. They yearn blindly for immortality, knowing nothing of what it is they wish for.
Lómenáre, fairest of stars, blue as the sky of day, must you pass so soon? Yes, the blaze of thy death is brighter than all thy light in life: and yet I weep.
Yes, beauty that passes swiftly is always the fairest. But how many marrings can one soul endure? We Valar do not age. But we are touched by Time, even so. Time - the life of Eä, and its curse as well. How many stars may die before I too am changed? How many fires go out, until I too grow dark and chill? I am not as I was. Once was I Varda, great among the Powers, one whom even the Great Enemy feared to gainsay. Now I am but Elbereth, beloved of a dwindling people, unknown to the Secondborn. How long until I too fade, or grow cold as dark space, bright no longer?