Nazgul

Through mist and shadow
They ride and creep

They risk all ends
For what they seek.

It calls to them
To take it home

So without rest
The lands they roam.

Black as night
Not living , not dead

They search for it
The trees cry dread.

Faceless ones
Armed with steel

Empty inside
Its call they feel.

And so nine ride
To obey their Master

"Shire", it said
Faster and faster.

Closer it feels
Its pull grows stronger

Should it be found
The light no longer.

For darkness shall rule
Such evil will cost

In the hands of a hobbit
Is Middle-earth lost ?