In shadows deep where secrets dwell,
A river hobbit heard the swell
Of whispered gold, a sly delight,
His heart, once pure, now thirsts for night.
Beneath the willow’s ancient grace,
He spied a glint, a treasure’s face,
With nimble hands and cunning eyes,
He felt the call of darkened skies.
The river sang of mischief’s bloom,
He danced with whispers through the gloom,
And though the stars, like lanterns, gleamed,
His spirit faltered, silence screamed.
Once meek beneath the moon’s embrace,
Now drawn to shadows, lost in chase,
The hunger grew, a thief’s cruel art,
As darkness crept to claim his heart.
Yet still, the currents gently wove,
A tale of innocence, of love,
For every stolen spark of light,
Leaves echoes in the endless night.
