Arwen vanimelda, namárië!
Fairest darling, farewell.
Others may come, some try to stay,
But none will ever dwell
In gold forests of memory,
At home as the elves
In the heart of the man you see
Where other love ne’er delves.
Kind of rougher, but whatever. The idea is to get it out more than to get it perfect. (By the way, it's pronounced /nə mər" ē ā'/.)
Rough or not, it's still beautiful. And that part of the saga was beautiful, too, in a very tragic kind of way...
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