An old darkness
Weaves her webs,
Strands and cables
From rock to cliff
Covering the valley
From peak to peak,
A blackness no light can penetrate,
No eye can pierce.

Under cover of clouds
Of shadow, darkness, and void,
Led by her Master, full of
Ego, greed, and revenge.

Piercing, sucking dry
The light of the world,
Licking up the bleeding sap
From the trees of life.

The only light left,
Stolen away; hidden.
A world draped in darkness; marred.
Waiting to be healed.

8/5/17

This poem was inspired by Chapter 8 of Quenta Silmarillion, the third part of J. R. R. Tolkein‘s The Silmarillion.