The DarkElf is Pursued

- Lothithil
Mould and leaves beneath my feet
I cannot to the tree-tops escape
For they climb as well as any Elf
and their noses are keen
Speed and light are my only allies
With one hand I grip my bare steel
The other holds together what they left of me
When we met earlier this night

What new vile gift to the earth
From Morgoth is this abomination?

I run like wind weaving the boles
They follow as sure as shadows
As if the tardy Sun were in my face
don't look back, don't stumble,
don't think of death

Like leeches of Angmar
They cling to my trail
I must lose them in
This forest north of Doriath
Here I gamble to find some horror
That makes prey of predators
And thus win my game of chance.