Melkor amid the Ainur’s music
Striving to drown out all the others
And I am but one voice among the many
Not so loud as might be found
Never so sonorant and rarely a soloist
No soaring tenor nor throbbing bass
And soprano only in distress

There is no Eru to lift up hands and fear-making face
Silencing the cacophony and ending both the Song and its despite
So I can but carry my tune
Even if the bucket is leaky and its handle cracks
While the bleating brays on beating out a tattoo unceasing
In its unimaginative dissonance and guttural refrain

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