In a hand
Soft and small
A deadly band
To rule them all
My Master calls
Please don't let go
From hand I fall
Must this be so?
Down I go
Through dark and deep
Towards fire
And never ending sleep
The fire, it melts
My soul destroyed
My hope is gone
Here comes the void
For ever and after
Thus we remain
My Master and I
No longer twain
This is a poem about the ending of the Ring in The Lord of the Rings, from the Ring's point of view.
For those of you who are not familiar with the word, twain is an old term that means 'two'.