In the dark of the night, with the dawn far from near,

A curious creature happened here.

Of steel and cloth, more breath than bone,

Never with others, never alone.


It watched from atop the road that night,

On a steed whose breath seemed flame in air.

With eyes like embers, yet piercing sight,

It stood its vigil till dawn's first glare.


I feel he saw me, to this day, that mounted shadow he.

I know he smelled from where he was, the mortal scent of me.

But if he did, he gave no sign, nay, paid me little heed,

What to the Nazgul is a youth, when weighed against their need?


And need he had, I know this well, a yearning from him blew…

Of nights and days of long ago, when man was fresh and new,

And other yearnings still, these of a deeper, darker flame.

To fight the battles of his lord, to claim the ring again.


There came a cry when dawn had come, a shriek of darkness rang.

He spared no moment, spurred the beast, and oh how his blade sang!

And into the shadows he did fly, to flee it seemed, from light,

To weave himself in darkness deep, and cling in day, to night.


And though I cannot tell you why, myself I still believe,

That there were tears, within those eyes, that most men fear and grieve.

And though I know how mad they sound, these words from me you hear,

I feel the Nine who hurry death know well the wheel of fear…


For them it can be but a circle, as round as the dark lords ring,

Their suffering lingers unbroken, though in tones of his blackness they sing.

And all of the world is against them, and they are themselves still at war,

A battle they fight deep inside them, that no man has fought er before,


Yes, they fight with themselves in the darkness, and I fear they won't last for much more…


…You wonder surely, how I could know this, and pity the things you despise?

I answer you truthfully, and simple, and plain …I had but to look in his eyes.