Poetic Riddle. Inspired by Tolkien.

What is it, which, tall and proud

embraces fading light, in eves shroud.

With flickering glow and head aflame, (not sure if this line fits?)

till morn do come, where short and stout,

it still dose sit, its light gone out.

It bides it's time, its feet in gore,

for restless minds and eyes wanting more.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9bnlgc/here_i_stand/e55mz0i/?context=0)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9bjwtc/conservation_of_energy/e55njd0/?context=0