The Nine from The Malice by Anavho

Men grown obsessed
A thought that will never rest
They will attempt their best
On how to defeat death

A jealousy growing
For their lives to keep going

Their pride grows stronger, than ever before
Their lives not long enough, they just want more

The greed of the High Kings
Were gifted with Nine Rings
They did not notice one thing
Of the death and darkness it will bring
One by one, they fell into black
They will never grasp their souls back
Greed and power, their special knack
A shadow hides in the cracks of life

Fading into nothing

Once they found themselves, doing his will
Númenor grew terribly ill
Slowly dying, they fade
Time stood still
Tired, quenched, breathless
A hungry that will never again full-fill

Invisible hooded figures, now forever roam the land
Doing the bidding for their dark-lord Sauron, at his left hand

Nine horseman ride
Figures of black by his side
They can't touch any tide
Nine mortal men doomed to die

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