Beneath the sun beneath the moon
Reared in a time of ancient gloom
In murky shadows beyond the bliss
A monument to the old abyss

Foul and blackened is the air
A place of dread, every horror’s lair
Reek of doom rises in the west
Encircled by the ashen crests

Fair the shape that once here dwelled
Annatar, the lord, which never yelled
Yet the spirit remained the same
Betrayed the west, a deed of fame

Shrouded looms in the malicious night
Black and tall, an unholy sight
Its thralls no hero shall succour
The darkish tower of Barad-Dûr