Ode to Sting
by Bob King ©2003
It shines bright
At orcs in the night
It’s mighty in even the smallest hand
Passed down from one generation to the next
No, its not Narsil but you’ve seen it before
Found in the mountains
With goblins who died
Used to fight a dragon
And then put aside
Cut through the web
And wounded the spider
Persuaded the creature
To lead two to Mordor
A companion to The Ring
They call it Sting.