Alright, folks, here it is - the Maglor poem I promised! It isn't perfect, but I think it's good enough.
So here I give to you:
Maglor's 'The Raven '
Trigger warnings and notes first!
This poem is heavily inspired by the poem 'The Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe. It borrows form and meter, and even certain phrasing from that poem, which is about a man driven mad by his lost love and the Raven that comes to visit him and taunts him with lack of information concerning the afterlife, replying to all his questions with one word: "Nevermore."
I did include a raven in my version of this poem, although mine doesn't center as much on the raven as Poe's does. You'll also see more than one occurrence of that maddening "Nevermore," but again, it is not as central to my poem. Oh, and mine is longer than 'The Raven.'
As a quick disclaimer, this won't be as perfect a poem as 'The Raven,' as I am just an amateur poet. I am not a fan of Poe's works in general, but that doesn't mean he didn't produce some brilliant writing.
Now, trigger warnings: 'The Raven,' which this takes inspiration from, is quite dark in nature. This poem about Maglor is also quite dark, and heavily features themes of hopelessness and suicide. (I went with the version of the lore where Maglor kills himself in the end.) The style of this poem is very hypnotic almost, and can really hammer itself into your head. So if you're not in a good place right now, this might not be the poem for you. Also, I want to say that I do NOT believe suicide is the answer - even for people who have done very evil deeds!! It's the route Maglor takes, but this poem isn't meant to beautify or romanticize it, or portray it as the correct way to deal with things.
So with all that out of the way, here's the poem.
Maglor's 'The Raven'
Once upon an evening dreary,
Far he wandered, weak and weary,
Wandered singing, low and mournful,
With his harp, upon the shore.
Worn his raiment was, and yearning
Was his song that o'er the churning
Of the dark Sea came returning,
As so oft' it had before;
For here walked one of the Eldar,
Mighty singer of the lore -
Maglor, son of FĂ«anor.
In the restless wind now blowing,
Raven-dark, his hair was flowing,
Yet he seemed naught but a shadow
Of himself in days before.
Here he wandered, lost, forsaken,
For a fell Oath he had taken,
When he, with his kin, unshaken,
Swore the Oath of FĂ«anor,
In that fair and far-off country
Far removed on sundered shore,
Blesséd land of Valinor.
Broken now, though once undaunted,
Roamed the Elf, by darkness haunted,
Ever vainly seeking solace,
Peace of conscience to restore.
All his brothers long outliving,
Yet the Oath, still unforgiving,
Ever all his steps had driven
Toward the gems for which he swore,
Swore at any cost to capture,
Though they lay in Morgoth's hoard,
On a dark and distant shore.
Ah, the years of tears unnumbered,
Even when the dread Oath slumbered
In a sense of peace deceiving
For a time, if nothing more.
Yet in passion, wrath, and raging,
Brothers death-bound, though unaging,
Once again their fate engaging,
Each in turn his blood outpoured,
Till remained yet one still living,
Wand'ring lone upon the shore,
Maglor, son of FĂ«anor.
Falters now his song and singing -
Nigh at hand a Raven winging
Out of yonder misty darkness
Comes to light upon the shore.
Now the Elf, with desperate pleading,
Cries, "Ah, Raven! Apt our meeting!
Canst thou bring me what I'm needing,
Just a word from Valinor?
Or perhaps take message thither
Yonder to that shining shore?"
But the bird spoke: "Nevermore."
Though astonished, Maglor ponders,
Elven gaze flits ever yonder,
Seeking, searching, now by habit,
For the light of Valinor.
But the mist his sight is veiling,
As the Western sun is paling,
And no ship for him is sailing
To the home he once adored,
To that fair and far-off country,
Whence he'd dwelt in days before.
Would he see it nevermore?
Now the Elf cries, "Raven, tell me,
If compassion can compel thee,
Am I now forever severed
From all loves known heretofore?
Far-off now are those once near me,
For all Elvenkind now fears me!
Shall their faces never cheer me,
Never comfort anymore?"
But the Raven gave no answer
Different from the one before,
Just that one word: "Nevermore."
Lifting up his voice, lamenting,
In the sea-spray unrelenting,
Cries the Elf now to the Raven,
"Shall this curse last evermore?
Lost I've roamed, myself abhorring,
Never ceasing my imploring;
Can the Valar now restore me,
Twice-damned son of FĂ«anor?"
But the bird remained in silence,
Silence only, nothing more,
Chilling Maglor to the core.
Now upon his knees he's falling,
All his evil deeds recalling,
Dropping tears of bitter anguish
In the sand upon the shore.
"Such a high price I am paying -
All the bloodshed and the slaying
For those gems, yet not allaying
All my guilt, though grieving sore!
Tell me, Raven, is there hope here
For a son of FĂ«anor?"
Sighed the Raven, "Nevermore."
To the cliffs his steps now steering,
Heart and hands still burning, searing,
From the pain when he, unworthy,
Took the gem of FĂ«anor.
Though into the Sea he'd cast it,
This soul torture still outlasted
Pain of body, and surpassed it,
Aching, bleeding more and more,
Bleeding in his pain and pining
While his grief and tears outpoured,
Raven watching, like before.
Now aside his harp he's casting -
"Shall the Darkness Everlasting
Be my fate and not release me,
But enchain me yet the more?"
But his cry is met by thunder,
Tides of grief that pull him under,
As his heart breaks all asunder,
Like the dark waves on the shore,
Like the Sea that far below him
Rages restlessly and roars,
Mocking Maglor more and more.
Thus, his pleading unavailing,
With a wild and woeful wailing,
To the tempest cries, tormented,
"Curse the Oath of FĂ«anor!"
And his cry still distant ringing,
Maglor of the mighty singing
To the Sea himself now flinging,
Here his voice to raise no more,
'Neath the waves he falls in silence,
He whose song is nevermore,
Maglor, son of FĂ«anor.
-----
Well, that's it. I'm not sure I'm convinced Maglor couldn't have been pardoned or something, but I think if nothing else, his own guilt would have haunted him as long as he stayed in Middle Earth. Thus why the Raven implies there's no hope for the sons of FĂ«anor. And I left it ambiguous as to whether the Valar could restore him; you'll notice the Raven responds in silence to this question. The Raven doesn't know, I don't know, maybe no one knows. Perhaps only Eru Illuvatar would have that authority.
All you true fans of the legendarium will hopefully discover all the little gems throughout this poem that only a true fan would recognize! đ (Let me know if you do!!)
There's so much more I could've done!! (You should see my papers covered in sets of rhyming words and phrases - and so many went unused!) But the poem is long enough as it is, and I didn't want it to drag on needlessly.
I'll try to upload this to AO3 as well, which will hopefully have better formatting options than my phone seems to have for this app. đ And I plan to post the link here when I do. Anyway, hope you Tolkien-heads enjoy! đ
