This is a poem I wrote many years ago after reading J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. I thought at the time (and still do) that it was very sad that the elves had to leave Middle Earth.
White tower
on a hill in your dreams,
drawing closer.
I remember you
running through a forest,
alive with thought,
or dancing on the seashore,
singing.
Frozen forever in dreams
and haunted by recollections of tomorrow
you warned us of deep lakes
of obsidian evil
lurking behind every tree,
but we never heard,
walking together with folded hands.
Tomorrow you leave
and the world dies with you.
You'll turn your gaze eastward
and leave me
standing in the white tower
you see only in your dreams.
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