A little poem about a certain group of Tolkien fans. Or should I say, Legolas fans?
The night was dark, sky stormy,
a light was seen from afar.
A girl, not more then 18,
was seen reclining within.
Her face was pale; her lips were red,
and her hair black as night.
Her eyes were of the fairy type:
everchanging lights.
She was writing a fanfiction.
A princess fair of Dealotheirnialith
she wrote,
and how she fell in love.
As with the hundred thousand girls out there,
She fell in love with Legolas.
Ai! Fair prince of Mirkwood,
How are you?
I was really wondering,
whether I can have a fuck with you?
(And these were the fair princess' words.)
But alas! Legolas tried to flee,
But her silver nails,
were like claws of iron
No! You cannot go!
(And these were what she said)
But with evil! powers she took,
Legolas as a slave,
to her fortress, Dealotheirnialith, they went.
And lived happily ever after.