November 2004
Sauron's Counselling(Based o Tolkien's 'The Lord of the Rings')
The problems on this earth
All stem from one thing:
That bastard Isildur
When he stole my magic ring.
Then riding home he saw some orcs
And tried to pick a fight,
And my Ring slipped from his finger
And vanished from my sight.
A river-dweller found my Ring
(I only learnt this later)
But he too perished for the thing
He had found in the water.
His killer ran beneath the hills
To goblin tunnels old.
And there he crunched on raw fish bones
In caverns dark and cold.
My Ring on one gnarled finger,
His friend's blood on his hands,
He stayed there 'til a hobbit came
Journeying from distant lands.
The filthy hobbit stole my Ring
But that story's been told before.
So I won't bore you, listener,
By recounting it any more.
I summoned forth the Ringwraiths,
My loyal friends of old,
And saddled on black horses,
This to them I told:
"Someone out there's pinched my Ring,
And I want it found.
I need you boys to persuade him,
To make him come around."
But all that mess with Saruman…
Well what can one guy do?
When someone you have scarcely met
Starts coming on to you.
You see, this death and darkness thing
Is my only game,
But from this rhyme I hope you've learned
I can't take all the blame.
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