This theory may be farfetched, but stranger things have happened. I don't own LOTR.
Mirkwood is Greening, and I am Forlorn
Mirkwood is greening, and I am forlorn
The road of my life's journey goes ever on
But soon I must leave this land where I was born
And my heart is weeping, for Smeagol is gone
Bright green glow the sunrays in treetops above
Sweet are the waters of many clear streams
But brighter green still were the eyes of my love
And sweeter the whisper I hear in my dreams
The flavor of fish-flesh brings tears to my eyes
In memory of the good times that we shared
In dark elven dungeons secure from the skies
Where I visited him whenever I dared
Inquisitive wildlings united at last
Sharing stories and riddles, laughing and weeping
Fleeing fear of the future and pain of the past
Until in my lap he lay peacefully sleeping
I wish he had stayed ever here as my friend
But I knew that this palace could not be his home
The centuries had brought him wounds I could not mend
And his wild night-swimmer's heart needed to roam
So I helped him escape to continue his quest
To find a lost treasure in lands far away
But where once I was merry, now I could not rest
Longing and loneliness filled me night and day
I always loved Mirkwood; its dark mysteries
The secrets of creatures in stream, cave and pool
I delighted in wandering and climbing trees
Wolves and bats were my playmates in evenings cool
Yet without my dear Smeagol, it all seemed so dim
Then, word came one day of his terrible death:
In a desolate mountain cruel fire took him
My heart pounded in me, I could not draw breath
Reveal to his haters my pain, I could not
Even if I could, there is no time to grieve
All around me is joy at some battle well-fought
And Mirkwood is greening, and soon I must leave
Yes the darkness fled after the "heroes" had won
And Greenwood is no place for elves anymore
Soon Men will arrive now they won't loose the sun
Then, we will depart for our bright Valinor
What life will I have in that mystical place?
I've heard of the glories that it can provide
But all that I want is to see Smeagol's face
And to prowl down Mirkwood's dark lanes at his side