With dark eyes like
Pools of shadow,
You wait, sleeping.
With horns of fire like
Burning brands,
You wake from sleep.
With shrivelled wings like
Bats in the dark,
You move, sleepless.
With claws and teeth like
Daggers sharp
You kill mercilessly.
Durin's Bane...
A Balrog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem