Sauron Met a Strange Fairy

"Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Bilbo, Frodo, and even Sam"
  
Where Frodo said goodbye  
to Legolas and Aragorn,
Merry and Pippin, he tried  
to feel the future-born  
   
peace, as he was smart;  
Valinor he did percieve  
alas, inside it would hurt:
a shadow that qui vive.  
   
Oh, the lingering sensation  
of how would Arwen wither;  
turning to a river in dimensions  
without a prospect near her.
   
It actually was the blue-eyed  
rather athletic Gollum  
that heard the truce behind  
"Balrog of Morgoth", oh, hm!  
   
What does the Light  
of Gandalf at the fifth dawn,  
meant, for in fright  
blared a trumpeting sound.  
   
Whoever knows the Elohim,  
would actually understand,
sounds are intentions within,  
resonating with soul and stance.  
   
So, Frodo intuited deeply
that the fellowship of brothers  
couldn't fade away; discreetly,
the story of the Ring would gather.  
   
Once upon a time Celebrimbor  
instigated Sauron's initiation;
the rings were crafted to lure
as sparks of blacksmith creation.  
   
For whatever one hits
between fire, metal and stone,  
gives life forever to it,  
whatever is underneath born.  
   
A mysterious lady in white,  
with black hair so unknown,  
visited the brightening sky,  
at Sauron's volcano blown.
   
Where his den had erupted;  
ambiguity worth speculation;
why creations, by him corrupted,  
could be destroyed at his haven.
   
Or is it deeply known in mind,  
buried in feelings death holds,  
for whenever the plan unwinds,  
the future the meaning beholds.  
   
This lady rather alien  
appeared from nothing,  
she was also sapient,  
an Elohim of something.  
   
Once upon a dream,  
while creating divinations,  
it would quite seem,  
that the One Ring's creation  
   
was explicitly powerful  
as it hid Elven scripts,  
emanating codes and full
of intents; a transcript.
   
She perceived the pranava
and reflected with a prayer,  
touched the cooling lava  
and inclined her hair fair.
   
Touching inside the remainders  
of inhaling gluttonous souls;
what an ambience; a finder  
of Sauron's plans and next goals.
   
She immediately chained them;
cosmic steel around their skin;  
bloody and vindictive, in mayhem,
they somewhat glistened within.  
   
She laughed at Sauron, addressed him,
enchanted his mindset so biased,
so elusively morphing his wisdom,
showing his weakness in quiet.
   
Falling frosty manna drops,
inside the fuels burning,
dimmed skies at Mordor's top,  
lost in the process of learning.
   
Facts with questions outlined,
where one is endlessly straying,
Could Sauron, restless, unwind  
the spell that she was portraying?
   
She became a Mirror of Himself,
he saw his harvest from afar,  
she joked: "Please ask yourself,  
Annatar, how predictable you are!"  
   
She lured him with her moving eyes  
as a witchy queen of elven forests,
in the form that he craved in his highs,  
he was intrigued, and so surest.  
   
Then she led him at the ocean sands,  
where he couldn't recognise himself,
Ulmo's appraisal in silence would stand,
his dirty claws his guilt would delve.
   
She turned backwards and her hair
displayed the past in sceneries,
her wings swished and scattered care,
in contrast with his brutal amenities.
   
She evoked morality and judges,
in synesthetic twists and waters,
divine conclusions or grudges?
Present choices open doors.
   
It was said she normally bore
a face of childlike purity and passion;
And how longer could Sauron ignore
the call behind his cruel fashion?
   
For is it always hard to capture  
the lost meaning of deviant missions?
Sauron knew ... it would be a rapture  
to turn back to his normal position!
 
He looked back and he saw
endless piles of pointless burning.
And tell me... tell me how,
awoken, he could ever feel deserving?