Uncle-King, ever I watch you and I fear you
For who knows what lurks in the shadow of thought
But, it is not you that I fear, for another there is
A worm and traitor, but a trusted advisor he is not

Wormtongue is his surname, Grima his first
Long ago he came to this kingdom of men
And not so long ago, he was alone and cursed
Even you sign my brother’s death with your pen

But, perhaps, a savior may come someday
And free me from this cage of which I call “home”
And, if truth be told, he will be a leader of the way
To mend what you have already together sewn

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