I did not want Gollum to enter my space.
Yet it was no longer safe to sleep
in the jagged jigsaw of Emyn Muil.
There were wiser eyes inside every crag
and listening ears in every branch above
every shattered pool. I dare not breathe
in such dark, now so still and thoughtful.
Gollum crept up on me one night
while I slept on the jagged rock.
He tried to jump me from the rear.
I said, "Gollum! Get out of there!
Or I'll cut your stinking throat!"
Alas it was not myself who spoke
and not myself who held the knife.
It was the doom upon my heart
that took me into its dreary night
and upon its crooked path.
An illusion that lead me onwards.
