Gollum

 The ring ruined soul:

The sceptre of dark lord,

In the form of a flawless shiny gold ring,

Connived and contrived to reach

The gracious hobbit soul of Smeaģol,

And possessed his complete being,

With the boon of unending life-expectancy,

Tamed him to its ill-will,

Consumed his flesh and blood,

Distorted him bony and ashy.

He named himself as Gollum the precious!

Darkness is his veil,

Apart a few shreds of torn-trousers,

Wiggling raw fish and filthy worms are his diet,

Hissing is his tongue,

Gold blinds his eyes,

To swollen yellow marbles,

And they turn green

As greed flares in.

He creeps and crawls in all four,

Centuries he passed in caves and woods,

Sneaking away from the sunlight.

Even the mightiest king dare to kill,

As his feebleness kindles pity in every soul.

A vital part he plays to succeed

The quest of the plot

With all his stinks and schemes;

As ill-fated ring bearer,

Kindles the strong-good-will,

Of Frodo Baggins and Samwise.

Gollum is an epitome:

Evilness has its own part

To make one sense the goodness–

Indeed, no evil no good!