In Valinor were two young Noldor born:
The foremost elven twins, one pair of three.
Amrod and Amras, sons of Fëanor
Red was their hair, and would their white hearts be.

For unto them the Doomsman’s curse was lain
While questing for their father’s Silmarils.
In vicious battle were both brothers slain
When what seemed triumph turned and boded ill.

Though born in love, their deaths were spawned by greed
An oath of murder was their bitter creed.

A mariner of Sirion was blessed
With two young sons, twin Peredhil by birth.
And with this heritage, a trying test
Came unto them, of destiny and worth.

While living with High King Ereinion
Each came of age, and chose his future then;
Long elven years were granted to Elrond
While Elros grew to be a king of Men.

Their choices turned to sorrow when each brother
By life or death, was sundered from the other.

Elrond himself then raised his children dear;
His eldest sons were twins, a cunning pair.
For life, to Elladan and Elrohir
Was but a game for two young hearts to share.

Few were the moments that they spent apart
For each was bound by love too great for words.
Two bodies, joined in soul and mind and heart
Inseparable by any spear or sword.

They vowed to live out all their days together
And so they did, immortal both forever.