Then Iluvatar spoke, and he said: 'Mighty are the Ainur, and mightiest among them is Melkor; but that he may know, and all the Ainur, that I am Iluvatar, those things that ye have sung, I will show them forth, that ye may see what ye have done. An thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that atempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.'
...
And as they looked and wondered this World began to unfold its history, and it seemed to them that it lived and grew. And when the Ainur had gazed for a while and were silent, Iluvatar said again: 'Behold your music! This is your minstrelsy; and each of you shall find contained herein, amid the design that I set before you, all those things which it may seem that he himself devised or added. And thou, Melkor, wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind, and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory.'

There can be no Triumph without loss.
No Victory without suffering.
No Freedom without sacrifice.

It only takes a moment to see something special in a person.
A second to get to know them.
A minute to fall in love,
and a lifetime to forget them.

We are not among the living and so we cannot die but neither are we dead. For too long I’ve been parched with thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I’ve been starving to death and haven’t died. I feel nothing, not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman’s flesh. The drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men. Compelled by greed we were, and now we are consumed by it. So what now? Will it be it two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound? Or you could surrender.

Darkness dawns upon my days, my anguish, chained within its mud. In solitude. In solitude. In dark dawns of still, sweet, nights. Quiet as the sounds of thought and as loud as solitude itself. I am condemned and rightly so - The griffin chained within my tarnished soul.

In the darkest days of the unwritten lore there was told a legend that's been all but forgot. It is engraved upon all flesh and yet only seen in the common themes of the worlds mythos. Ragnarok, Gotterdammerung, Armageddon.