By His_Lordship on 23/01/2011
Clad in the colour of the night
And lit by naught but candle light
The enemies of those in white
Deep in this cavern do unite.
You seek the room where walks the Lord
With neither helmet, shield nor sword.
Here mounted on a wooden board
A creature that once screeched and roared.
Examining it on the wall,
You seek the word that's last of all.
Your adversaries, great and small,
Are right behind you, do not stall.