Upon this Tolkien

If i ever see that Sam

I am going to shake his hand

Coz of the good work

Trimming that shrub of a mirkwood,

I could not find him so i looked near Prancing Pony,

There a ruckus was in riot

Couldnt get in, some dwarf was kicking everbody

Alas one of the Dunedain Rangers

Like Beren before broke the fight

Nonetheless a storm ensued and an elf arrow twanged

One bellowed

“Glorifindel is that you?”

The riot roared the fight was joined and renewed

Now one Beam got thrown in the mix

From the roof as if a storm of crows came bearing down

Like a mountain of rock and stone,

And a hail of nails come crashing as if Sauron was near

A shreik like as of those things that wail of wights, an undead

Scream pierced the fight.

Dead silence is her violence, as a barmaid coming out of shriek.

“I am no man to pick up a fight,

But if you people keep going

Then let it be known i will wail again and again until 

All of your ears bled”

All filed out like sevants of mordor and into the night the kept

The silence 

Their mouth shackled.


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