He Halted, Listening – The Forbidden Pool

by Feb 3, 2004Poetry

He Halted, Listening

I stand on the rocks,
in the cold,
by the wet;
Anborn is waiting behind me.
I take a deep breath,
close my eyes
and think no!
I hate the foul thing before me!
I can hear him now,
muck-covered slime and clammy hands.
He’s touched me before
with those hands,
grabbing hands,
when we crossed o’er the Dead Marsh lands.
And at the Black Gate
again he
rubbed his hands
on my shoulder, and sniveled.
That voice, I hate it!
If only
it could be
put out forever, fully dulled.
And here is my chance,
is waiting,
wanting to shoot that miserable creature.
I wish that I could,
I want to,
I want to…
but I can’t; I really just can’t.
But why? That’s so dumb!
I reble,
I must nod,
say ‘kill that horrible creature!’
But then, Gandalf said –
Oh Gandalf!
Where are you?
I need you to be here with me!
You said, long
ago, ‘the
pity of Bilbo,’ you told me,
might save us one day.
Did you mean,
don’t kill him?
Did you really mean what you said?
And Bilbo, he did
not kill him
either, the
sword he gave me is not stained red.
I must follow him,
I must do
as they said;
Like Bilbo – I will leave him free.
I can hear him now
just beyond
the corner.
Like Bilbo – I must leave him free.


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