On the southern shore of Nurn you find
Aelindur’s misty flower field
with her magic roses, black and white.
In the hour of midnight
she is dancing right across the field
weaving signs of magic, runes of might.
And she sings: “Burzum ûk,”
chanting words of power, Sauron’s child.
And then the swaying magic roses
growing in the field obey,
sending streams of evil, pale as death.
For though each rose is graceful, it is
filled with Mordor’s baleful breath
used by Aelindur Elvenmaid.
And when the Moon is rising,
then an evil eye looks down on you,
sending forth her powers to your mind.
You wake up to the sound of chanting;
Aelindur comes to you
wearing words of magic, words to bind:
“Be my slave, be my slave!”
Then you must surrender, and you do.
Thus you are, thus you are
bound with words of chaining, thus you are.
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