Riddle 27

I am treasure    lofted from the forest,
cliff-rims, rolling hills,    town slopes.
All day wings     lift me in the shaking wind,
slip me through     the edge of a land-ship,
sweet sanctuary.     Then a man abducts me,   
carries me to the cauldron.      Bathed,
I bind and beat men,    draw down   
both young and old,    rip and ravage,
steal strength.    Soon he finds
he’s taken me on    my wild and mighty work.
I twirl those fools   right down to earth.
Strength gone, speech foolish,    a man
has no influence    over hands, feet, brain.   
Say what I am    who hold men
to Middle Earth,    blind them with bluster
and such barbaric blows    the befuddled fools
know my dark bent    only by the light of day.

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