Golden lands Flourish,

Flowers unwind, free from the struggle 

 Of competition, of pain, of trouble. 

Rest is abundant in the Lands of Dreams. 

The Protection of the ancient forest and its caretakers is the closest magic Man will know.

A Mirror blesses and curses the leader with false truths of what could reveal itself into the world of reality. 

 

Light

 

I imagine the elven forest of Laurenande 

When I need a safe haven. 

The silver of the trunks shows me the strength in subtle beauty,

for the land of Lorien is known for its Golden Leaves. 

Songs of mourning fill the canopy, 

accepting and dwelling as much as needed to heal. 

Inhabitants respect, empathize with the woes of others,

the Kind of Friend I desire to be to all,

not prying, but sincerely distanced. 

Wisdom I lack, that is clear,

though it can be gained quickly in the Kingdom of Dreams.

Others embrace pain in order to heal,

I have not learned to do this yet. 

 

But unlike this sanctuary, time moves forward and brings change with it;

trees wither, not all flower overcome, 

failure can still occur 

Outside the walls of Lothlorien.

 

Lothlorien consumes me, for I wish to represent it. 

Timelessness and Grace,

Comfort and Acceptance,

Protecting in a Quiet, Secret, way, 

And what I wish to have always:

Hope.