Amon Sul


I can feel the shadows waiting,
Shadows black against the night,
Feel their sightless glances hating
All who walk in morning light.

Spectral robes of midnight woven
Cowls that emptiness conceal,
Footfall on the stair time-cloven,
Unseen hand and glint of steel.

Tendril wind is softly stirring,
Wuth’ring round the ruined hill,
Halfling courage undeterring
To the foe’s unmortal will.

Rotting walls of stone surround us,
Crumbled stone from antique year,
Evil creatures now have found us
Helpless in the darkness here.


C. Baillie / '03