A short narrative poem for Smeagol
bgm if possible: Riverside by Agnes Obel
In a time when the world was younger
When many tales were not yet told
A young merry fisherman rowed off
Into the gentle flow
His life had ever been peaceful
Quiet did his folks dwell
But beneath the serenity of Anduin’s branch
Everything was torn in the river deep
An unfortunate bite of the hook
Between the weeds locked he was on his bait
Since then, for him the sunlight waned
And the simple life did fade
Crouched in the darkness he stared out
With eyes alert and afraid
In the depth of the mountains, he slinked alone
A hideous shadow, a fragile ghost
Labored and exhausted to such pitiful shape
In the weight of preciousness and of colossal evil
A poor sacrifice to the warfare of greater power
A helpless toy in hands of cruel fate
But still underneath all the corruption
A limpid echo of the days under sunlight
Exists however faint
Over the treetops a pale blue sky
Rippling, Anduin rushed timelessly away
3.11
格律什么的全部没有，有感而发想到什么就写什么，外行献丑了