A place with elves
dwarves, hobbits and men
A place with tales
We hear again and again

A place with adventure
That will never die
A place to laugh
And a place to cry

A place with songs
Of ancient days
Sung by elves
Merry and gay

A place where you hear
The hobbits laughter
Where they live
Happily ever after

Where mountains are filled
With silver and gold
Where the dwarves mine
Mighty and bold

A place with men
In cities of stone
And their great king
Sits on a beautiful throne

A place with lore
To others unknown
A place that I love
A place that's my own

There I live
And there will I die
In middle earth
My heart will lie

Yavanna Kementari
The giver of fruits
The mother of trees
The mother of roots

Creator of Laurelin
and Telperions light
The light of the trees
Put an end to the night

She created the moon
She created the sun
With a flower, a fruit
And with light it was done

She is our lady, tall and green
She is our mother
Our beautiful queen

Get out of my thoughts
Get out of my mind
I have to forget you
And leave you behind

But every time I see your face
Every time you come close
I'm filled with this awful grace
I try to resist but have no choice

I love you, and I will always do
Although I know you're blind
I know I cannot forget about you
But please get out of my mind

my aim is to put a face on the faceless
making statements for wasted cases
i take myself into forsaken spaces
all for the sake to escape those places

a fate to make shapes out of shapeless
creating grace on pages as my basis
a campaign to replace the fake embraces
leaving the traces that no eraser erases

There’s such a thing, the Serenity Spring,
The cradle of all beauty.
Abode of light,
A haven from blight,
A place to pour out your worry.
The gentle waters, pristine,
Will make the filthiest soul clean;
Reflections reveal the truth, however ugly.
Simply let yourself be submerged
As your stains are rinsed and purged.
Float on your back and take in the green,
As rays of light create silhouettes of leaves.
Take a deep breath and inhale the smell
Of white lilies whose secrets you mustn’t tell.
A choir of birds sing a delightful melody
That melts all sorrow and agony.
Welcome, they sing, to the Serenity Spring
Where we’ll wash your anguish away.
When in your darkest hour,
Just close your eyes,
Delve deep into your mind,
Let your thoughts unwind,
And in this paradise you’ll be laid.

Some wise men have said,
That the universe
Is made of strings, tiny,
Which vibrate in dimensions ten.
Six extra dimensions than
The usual three of space
And the fourth, which is assessed
Using a pendulum
Oscillating in nothingness.

Strings, like the ones of a guitar,
Playing different notes
And different symphonies
Bosons, fermions, electrons
And gravitons to name a few.
This annuls racism among sub-atomics
Since ultimately they're all threads.
Or do you think, a boson
Is superior to a fermion
'cause it swings in a different plane
Or because one of them is called
The God Particle?

Strings, oscillating like
The alternation of seasons
Strings, like the thread of relationship
Which stretches and swings
Between its highs and lows
Strings, oscillating like
The advancing and receding waves

All we could be is a painting,
A hologram, simple 3D information
On a two dimensional plane
Living our lives and executing functions
As the painter intended us to.
All we are, are threads
Arranged in a particular fashion
All we are is a bunch of strings!