Home | Literature Index | Movies & Broadway Index | Television Index | Music Index | Miscellaneous Index | Submit Your Own
Balrog
A Balrog, Balrog, burning hides
In Khazad-dûm, within the Mines,
What nigh-immortal hand or eye,
Could tan thy fearful (and thick) hide?
In what distant deeps or mines,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
And when the drums began to beat,
Who raised alarm to sound of feet?
What the horn and what the noise,
That managed to disturb your poise?
How the intruders that were chased,
Dared your deadly terrors face!
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist cold metal into your heart?
Did you misjudge the grey-attired,
The wielder of the Hidden Fire?
When the party dropped their gear
And wailed and fled thee shedding tears:
Did you smile your work to see?
Did you ask why one didn't flee?
Balrog, Balrog, burning bright,
Falling downwards into night,
What nigh-immortal hand or eye,
Now tans thy fearful (and thick) hide?