Obscurity

Арнор
feeling a wasteland growing inside
all its dark beauty, all its pale gleam
death is obscure and remnant is pride
only I wish you not enter my dream.
oh where are you, ghostly wonderful cold
over the mountains, near the lake
deep in thick woods, in the places untold
bleak was the reason you took for mistake
why ever leave me, for once you have thrown
me to survive in the searing sun
weary and weak in the wasteland alone
searching a lost soul and yet finding none
where are you, every night in the mist
always invisible, only a shade
me you have left, for death you once kissed
me you have killed, though death I evade.