1. O Little Town of Barad-dûr
Above thy deep relentless reek keeps watch the Lidless Eye:
And in thy dark streets hangeth the everlasting gloom
Of smoke and smog and foul black fog that belcheth from Mount Doom.
Sauron's mood is rancid; and, gathered in the air
While mortals sleep, the Nazgûl keep their watch of bleak despair.
Neglect of things diminutive has fouled his cunning plan
For Mordor's king has lost his ring, and Gollum up and ran.
How silently, how slinkily, the hobbitses creep through!
And meanwhile back in Rohan stupid Sharkey missed his cue.
Then a hero bursts from nowhere with a name that makes him quake,
With reforged swords and swarming hordes of dead dudes in his wake.
O mighty Lord of Barad-dûr, though fearsome be your power
Pack up your bags and leave your crags, and mortgage off your tower!
For changeful winds are whisp'ring o'er your mountains high and drear
Beware! They'll sing your downfall ere the turning of the year.
Draft 1. It needs sugarplums.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.