Trees for shelter and vines for honeyed fruit,The moon for the sun, the dusk for the dawn,Seeds for saplings, the felled nurse for the shoot.My Evening Star makes the stygian gone. Youthful beauty is not withered, but aged,Your lithe, young body is no longer yours;Wealth that you once dreamt, away like time, fades,But a mother’s… Continue reading Venereal Tinuviel: Motherhood
Awake! Put on strength! 