Standing below a street lamp,
Puffing a pipe weed,
The time is yet dark,
The waxing moon in the night sky,
Illuminating the hereabouts,
Night is chilled with cold breezes,
Making the scenery sombre,
Though, in the past no horrors confronted,
Lo!!!
Comes the sound of hoofs,
The fear crept the imbecile heart,
And conscience torments the soul,
For staying too late at this darkly hour,
Here comes a rider,
Bedizened in black,
With a brandished blade,
The sound of hoofs,
Riding on a black stallion,
The waxing moon behind,
The brandished blade in hand.
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NOTE:
This poetry is inspired by the Nazguls (or Black Riders) created by Tolkien.
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