October 10, 2013
The ring ruined soul:
The sceptre of dark lord,
In the form of 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,
Golden 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 sun light.
Even the mightiest king dare to kill,
As his feebleness kindles pity in every soul.
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!