Thursday, November 16, 2006

Editor of The Conspicuous

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Here lies a few excerpts from the scribe of one entity who saw it all, but was never mentioned in the account of the Baggins, later translated and compiled by J. R. R. Tolkien. Few say this anonymous was an Orc for the script bore words of the dark tongue. The name of the account, if translated says- "Through the Eyes of the Eye; or when I stopped worrying and loved the Hobbit!".

Incredible it may sound but those who has never seen swords draw and the towers fall, can neither qualify to dismiss it.

Verse 247: 93%fLUsh@#

The Ranger, Strider and eventually the succesor of the throne of the Numenors,
Gondors shine... but...
Ever did you wonder,
The only bane of the Strider?

O Aragon!

Ever did you wonder
Since time immortal
When the days were Elder
Since then rode Aragon,
Son of Arathon
He ever feared to step down
For he was in the slippers of Paragon.
Worn and torn.


Verse 451: 90% wAck!

The White Lady, amidst a Labryinth of twisted thought of the Men, Dwarves and of course the Dark Tower, sits in her recluse-

Galadriel , so Unreal!

Fell are those towers
Where once dwelt the Elves
Singing with the lores
And bliss all they bestowed.

Now they flee for the West
Scattered and scorched by the Black -
The hand that killed
And strangled the White.

But still hope remains,
As if a phoenix's last flight
"Galadriel O' Galadriel" - they cry
"Pray save us from the night!"

Alone in her garden
And blessed with the sun
Sits lonely and gay
Behold the Galadriel,
Playing Tournament-Unreal!

Men laid their weapons down,
And fear is all they do
Fright as they take flight
Before the mountains cast doom.

Their horses are tired
As their hearts are scathed
Diminished they grew
When the Black-sword drew

They hope no hope ,
But still the light remains
Quite distant yet real
A lady,they heard,called 'Galadriel'

Alone in the garden,
And blessed with the sun
Sits lonely and gay,
Behold the Galadriel,
Playing Tounament-Unreal


Verse 950: 91% tHo#!

The Hermit shaped crusader had history who nobody shared. His contempt for the White Elves lay below, as if under the dank grave of Moria!

The Gimli's unspoke

Another misery a life led Gloin
After Gimli grew tall enough
To be called a dwarf,
Gloin went to war
Where an Elf hacked his groin.

But Gimli was strong
Old enough for a pledge,
Avenge he would only do
With his father's own axe.

He looked forth for the elf
In the forest of Mirkwood,
But poor he resigned
With his last word "Alas!"

But destiny laughed out loud
Unmarked by any sound,
For the elf that he seeked
Was none but the father of Legolas!


Well, there lot many more to speak of... and many to forget and forgive to obscurity for if we not, then our accounts run the fear of being obese, which in this world, where many seas divide the lands and ships fly with arms, we cannot afford. Await more for the veil to uncover as truths still haunt as like ghosts... but nevertheless... I got to go and pee... so would you excuse and thanks for stopping by. See ya Man!