(no subject)

To the tune of Baa, Baa, Black Sheep, upon the hypothetical finding of my much missed One Ring:

REE REE Ring wraith,
Have you any rings?
Yes, sir, yes, sir,
Thirteen rings.

Nine for the nazgul,
Three from the dwarves,*
And one for the flamey eye
Who likes to start wars.

REE REE Ring wraith,
Have you any rings?
Yes, sir, yes, sir,
Thirteen rings.



*damn dragons destroyed the rest

A few of Sauron's favorite things...

Watchers in towers and Nazgul on horses
Strong mindless cave trolls and endless orc forces
Black hands with fingers covered in rings
These are a few of my favorite things

Ash covered valleys and poisonous streams
Dark towers filled with the sound of shrill screams
Cruel Haradrim and angry Dunlendings
These are a few of my favorite things

My ring that was made in the Mountain of Doom
And from which is spouted a noxious fume
Evil ring wraiths that once used to be kings
These are a few of my favorite things

When Gondor attacks
When a hobbit brings
Something to make me sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

(Repeat all verses)

(no subject)

A short rhyme to remind people why I have minions and don't do everything myself:

Poor Sauron is just a flaming eye,
If he were on his own he would cry.
Giant eyeballs have many demands,
But Giant eyeballs do not have hands
And Giant eyeballs cannot grab things -
Giant eyeballs can't even wear rings!
Giant eyeballs need riders in black
To go and get their precious rings back.
Giant eyeballs need big ugly trolls
To open the gates and dig great holes.
Giant eyeballs need small nasty orcs
To conquer the world and be mordorks.
Poor Sauron, what would he ever do
Without his vast hordes of minions true?

(no subject)

Another nice little song:

Oh where, oh where, has my little ring gone?
Oh where, oh where, can it be?
Isildur stole it and ran along...
Oh please bring back my ring to me!


Not very creative perhaps, but inspiring nonetheless.

And Sauron believes deeply in near rhymes.

Ohhh yes and a friend has written this in honor of Sauron:

Come, they told me, parum pum pum pum,
A new Flamey King to see, parum pum pum pum,
Our finest gifts are rings, parum pum pum pum,
To lay before the King, parum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum.
So to honour Him, parum pum pum pum,
When we come.

We will be sure to send her many shiny things.

A nice song

To the tune of "I'm Just a Little Black Rain Cloud" from Winnie the Pooh:

I'm just a little red eyeball
Floating on top of Barad-dur
Only a flaming red eyeball
Pay no attention to little me.
Everyone knows that an eyeball
Doesn't kill people, no not at all
I'm just floating here
And inducing fear,
Wondering how Middle Earth will fall

I'm not an evil bad dark lord
I'm just a friendly flamey eye
No one knows better than me, men
That nice pretty rings are hard to afford
Everyone knows that a dark lord
Never gives out rings, no not one
So I'm giving them out
And without a doubt
I'm the nicest eyeball in town

Nature Poetry

O Gorgoroth, My Belov'd Plain

Ah, the sweeping expanse
Of grey-black-white ash, dust, and rocks!
My flat and level plain,
Your noxious fumes are enticing!

I would love to frolic
Among your red-hot steaming vents--
The dry dust around me,
And the smell of death encircling...

You are sweet, Gorgoroth!
A garden of my own making.
From my mighty mountain
I look down on you and I smile.

You are clean and lifeless,
No flowers grow here, nor green trees,
Nor dirty shrubberies.
You are purest in your poison.

Live in my heart, sweet ash
Flow through my veins (though I have none),
Deadly rains of acid!
This paradise is part of me

O Gorgoroth, My Belov'd Plain,
Here alone is my eye at rest.



Maybe metered verse isn't so bad, but rhyme schemes will still burn in Orodruin.

The Itch

My eye itches.
I have not arms, nor hands,
Nor fingers, nor nails
To scratch it with.

The orcs have these,
But they are all afraid of me.
They won't come near me,
And so my eye itches.