A follow-up to my poem about Saruman:
Had you but let me teach you of those arts you so despise,
embraced your inner fire and the attachment that you fear,
forsaking calmness, self-control, the stillness you revere,
we could have left this world behind, ascending past the skies.
Had you but taken up my gifts of Seven, Three, and Nine,
and gifted me your naked need, your raw untamed desire,
we could have set th' encumb'ring body of this world afire,
uplifting the remainder indestructible, divine.
Your mortal power's long eroded 'neath an empty throne,
but strength undying you have seen in Nine who dared to learn.
No longer digging caverns deep, you sing and pine and yearn,
but we'd walk paths more glorious than any halls of stone.
The elf-lights which you worship, though to reach they seem too far,
approaching as we pass, we might behold as bright as day.
I wrought my work, I gift my soul, I'd trade my One away
to see you climb, surpass my pow'r, a brilliant shining star.