A/N : This story was inspired by Frodo's sister's poem: The Scary Tower.
Sometime ago he woke
In a dungeon cool and dank
With twisted beasts who spoke
With rotting teeth and breath that stank
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In sleep he had been stripped
Of clothes and Star and sword
And the band which he had gripped
Quite long, so as to evil ward
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His friend, too, it seemed
Was lost to him in death
For how could he've escaped the fiend
And her wicked spider breath?
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While he suffered hard abuse
He thought of many days
He never thought he'd lose
Or think on in this way
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He thought of stealing mushrooms
And great loud fireworks
Of Sam's white rose blooms
And Gandalf's many quirks
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A heavy step he hears again
As a creature does ascend
With a whip which his blood stains
Cruel lashes on his back to rend
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But there! Another footstep falls
Much hurried yet still light
And a voice whichs pleads and calls
A Mr. Frodo to come to sight
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The twisted elf does stand and fight
But the gardener wins here
With brave and sturdy might
So Frodo may not fear
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At last the cold and battered hobbit
Is safe in Samwise' arms
With hope to last him quite a bit
No care to coming harm!
Please review! Suggestions and constructive criticism welcome!