Gimli - A Poem

Cousin of kings,
sad stories brings.

Wields an ax quite sharp,
And plays the melody of the harp.

Explains the rough corse,
Will ner'er ride a horse.

Hates and loves the elves,
As pixies hate and love themselves.

Short not stout,
Strong not pout.

Runs to save his friends,
Mirth and sadness blends.

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