Nazgul exercise

The orcs of Mordor on guard duty,

Landscape barren, flat and sooty.

Staring at the clouds will get a bit dull,

It helps to kick around a hobbit-y skull.

Doesn’t last long, they always break,

Back to the lukewarm boredom lake.

Suddenly a rhythmic tintinnabulation,

Causes a minor interestation.

A glance and a minor sniff of the snout:

Angmar’s again on his jogging route.

This Nazgul likes to stay in shape,

Armor clinking under his cape.

Droplets of sweat fly from under the cowl,

Winded he lets out a terrifying howl.

Tells the orcs to climb on his back for more weight,

Does some squats and a pushup or eight.

He sits all day on his frightful fell beast,

No proper movement for eight hours at least.

Even the back of a ghost gets sore,

No exercise when there’s no evil war.

Soon the flying beast can’t bear your mass,

Walking around ain’t got much class.

The choice is that or a jog every day,

Sauron’s idea and he gets his way.


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