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[disclaimer: This poem is NOT about Gollum, but I suppose it 
resembles Gollum's fate.  Anyway, this picture is the best I can find
for this sort of poem, so just letting you know, this is not a Gollum
poem, so please dont get frustrated because it doesn't follow Gollum's
story.  Thank you and enjoy.  :o)

The Lost Soul of a Beast

by: Tato (Please e-mail me with comments!)

Below the sky that blazes gold,
Within the deepest mountain fold, 
Where hills and and streams release so bold,
A creature dwells within. 

Once of man, but now of beast,
He looks at others as a feast,
His heart’s desire now deceased,
He wallows in his pain. 

Long ago, when life was grand,
He’d entered an acursed land,
Where every inch had bloodied sand,
But still he walked the grounds.

He listened not when being warned,
And every word was simply scorned,
Too soon his soul was being mourned,
As he had lost it then. 

He waltzed into a darkened town,
The sun was creeping slowly down,
And every dweller wore a frown,
As their stare burnt deep within. 

He thought back to what others said,
But shook the thought out of his head,
The people almost looked quite dead,
As their scornful gaze remained. 

“He is alive!” one bluntly cried,
His face was grim, and smiled wryed,
The stranger knew he’d have to hide,
If he were to escape. 

‘T was no use, for they were quick,
They grabbed his arms and threw a kick,
The stranger started feeling sick,
As his head slammed to the ground.

The skies around him turned blood red,
And hot white pain absorbed his head,
He knew that he was surely dead,
So existence did fade.

When he awoke, he lie alone,
Surrounded by the barest bone,
He winced and let a gentle moan,
Escape from shaking lips.

“You are doomed,” a whisper cried,
The stranger spun from side to side,
His eyes so open, open wide,
In the dungeon’s darkened path. 

“I once was you,” a frail form sighed,
“Full of strength and full of pride,
Until at last my spirit died,
From being here within.”

“There is one way,” he rasp’ly spoke,
His small, frail body almost broke,
“You must escape, avoid the folk,
That put you here to die.”

“If you should find yourself to be free,
Go there to the most sacred tree,
But you will find yourself to be,
In a predicament of thought.”

“There, a man will sit and wait,
He’ll decide your greusome fate,
And he will lead you to a gate,
Where there you must decide.”

“To keep your soul, and to be found,
Or give your soul for sheltered ground,
You’ll live your life distraught and bound,
By sorrow and your pain.”

“Take heed, young boy, you choose your doom,
You can stay here, die in this room,
But screams are heard and darkness looms;
It tears my mind away.”

With no more words, the stranger lept, 
He dug and scraped and snuck and crept,
Until he reached the very depths,
Of the sewage from the town.

There, he followed a broken trail,
His body worn, and his skin was pale,
He had outlived a dismal tale,
But the worst was to arrive.

He climbed up towards the highest peak,
And jumped across a tiny creek,
Then soon he found what he would seek,
A figure stood alone.

The tree he’d found was tall and high,
And reached it’s way up towards the sky,
He knew his freedom, he would buy,
By trading his very soul. 

“Ah, and so he finally lands,
Now come with me into the sands,”
And with a simple gestured hand,
He led the stranger down.

He took his soul, and left him dry,
He sat alone, and let a sigh,
And began to question reasons why,
He had chosen this lonely fate.

His soul deceased, his body bare,
He thought of the most horrid stares,
If only he had the chance to dare,
His own realistic fate.

“Could I have gone back to the towns,
Where me and mates would down the rounds,
And reassuring howls of hounds,
Would liven up the streets?”

His mindless thoughts would ramble on,
Until the bleakest of his dawns,
When he would find his reason gone,
And mindlessness would subdue.

He is alone, his frame deformed,
His soul will never be reborn,
Many attempted to forwarn,
And yet he passed on through. 

A lesson to you all, my friends,
Do not persist with constant trends,
For you may appear in the darkest dens,
And be left much like this beast. 

Proceed with caution while you walk,
And listen closely for the talk,
Do not laugh and do not mock,
For they do not tell a tale.

And so, my friend, I leave you now,
To ponder what and ponder how,
But I hope sincerely that you vow,
To listen to my words.

The End...

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