Disclaimer : Same old disclaimer I don't own anything, Tolkien owns everything, Well, technically Tolkien doesn't own . . . anything 'cause he's dead, but you get the gist of the disclaimer I'm sure.
Stories of Old
Whispers of ghosts in the wind,
Tell me of a story that did begin,
Long ago in a land of shadow,
When the dark lord ruled from his dark tower.
He made nine rings for the mortal kings,
Three for the elves whose fairness sings,
Seven for the dwarfs under the stone,
And one that the dark lord called his own.
Evil quickly spread thought out the land,
Sauron grinned evilly at his plan,
Middle Earth began to fall into darkness,
Grief, Despair he had created this.
Elendil marched with his men,
Deep into Mordor where the fighting began.
Upon the slopes of the Mountain of Doom,
The two worlds clashed, the end would be soon.
Sauron arrived from his dark tower
No one could match his terrible power.
Forged together; Him and the Ring,
He quickly took down the mighty king.
Isildur took up his fathers sword,
And cut the ring from eh hand of the hand of the dark lord.
The battle was over, it had come to an end.
Sauron was gone, and life could start agin.
Elrond led him, into the fiery pit,
"Cast it into the fire and be rid of it."
Isildur replied "No it's mine"
And turned, leaving Elrond far behind.
The Ring of power was allowed to stay.
But soon the light began to fade,
Darkness began to creep again,
All because Isildur had kept a ring he couldn't bend.
An army of orcs ambushed him,
while travel in the forest with his men.
Isildur used to ring to escape,
But the ring betrayed him, to his fate
The Ring was left in its watery home,
Lost, Forgotten, and all alone,
It had become a legend of the past,
Until finally it's wait was over at last.
Thus creating an epic journey,
But for now that will remain another story.
Whispers of ghosts in the wind,
Tell me of a story that did begin,
Long ago in a land of shadow,
When the dark lord ruled from his dark tower . . . . .