A Variation of “The Lord of the Baseball Diamond” (with a revised conclusion)
Seven-foot Sauron stands imperiously
like a goliath on the mound,
Wearing his glistening, gleaming armor,
he longs to be crowned;
His wind-up is Smaug-like
and slithering and serpentine,
As if he’s been guzzling and gulping
hot Mordor turpentine;
Brimming with poison pride,
he frantically fires a fastball of power,
That rings through the air
as it aims to devour.
But Gandalf hits a flaming line drive
that decapitates Sauron’s poor head,
This fire-eyed fool paid for his arrogance,
and that’s why he’s doornail dead;
Sauron was buried on the pitcher’s mound,
where it came to be known as Mount Doom,
That night there were post-game fireworks
that erupted from his fiery tomb.