In the dark, where shadows dwell,  
Sauron, the Dark Lord, does compel.  
His minions gather at Barad-dûr's height,  
Plotting in the cover of night.  

At the Black Gate, armies stand tall,  
Awaiting the Dark Lord's call.  
Mordor's lands, where evil seeps,  
In the darkness, Sauron keeps.  

The One Ring, a precious prize,  
Calls for those with treacherous eyes.  
Doom and darkness, power and might,  
In Sauron's grasp, all is blight.  

Under a shroud of malice and fear,  
Sauron's presence ever near.  
In the realm of Middle-Earth, so cold,  
Sauron, the Dark Lord, takes hold.