Imagine if a ring of gold
Could spin spells and tricks a hundredfold,
Starting in a forge of fire
Tainted by one’s great desire.
–
Tumbling paths fraught with greed
Are numerous in the ones to read;
Fallen masters, tales of woe
Follow this ring wherever it goes,
–
Landing in the hand of one
Who crawls in caves to avoid the sun.
Driven mad by purest power,
Talking with himself at every hour
–
A two-faced creature now is he,
Never knowing which one to see.
He keeps his precious close at hand
Until a riddler crosses the land.
–
A change of master for the ring,
Wait to see what he shall bring.
Can power and greed overtake his mind?
Or destruction of gold will we find?
–
The tale goes on for many years;
Perhaps the answer is one of the fears.
Everything stemmed from this circle of gold;
At least, that’s how the story is told…
The Ring: A Lord of the Rings Poem
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