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Dor Sarnim Stone
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So dark, deep black to touch the sinking solid to surprise, One wink or blink , Ah! Now I see, Pointing spikes like devils claws, To clutch the moon or pick a star, Rocky spires, turrets grotesque, Plaiting pillars, skipping wispy clouds, Children's circles hands held spin, Mocking o'er the taunting void, The dancing weaving mandolin. A shooting star past Morgul’s mound, The fingers seem to try to pinch, Some passing wish, The elf-wise and empty fingers click. I watch yet nae go near, Perchance my soul to snatch, Deep down a cave in belly lie, Some dark Black Widow's web. Some carcass case chaste last. To stroke and poke, The prancing dreamer's song, The bone, stone, loudest crack, Flickering flames to trance, The wood nymph’s sirens lull, Morgul, Morgul, Morgul.
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