Gil-galad was an elven dude

The harpers don't sing of him 'cause he didn't give them food

The last whose land place was in a fair that was free

Between the big mountains and his backyard tree

His sword was big, his lance was serene

His shining iron hat was afar was seen

And the thingies of the sky's field

Were ignored by his useless shield

But one earth rotation he rode away

What hotel he dwelleth none can say

For into blackness fell his pot of tar

In mordor where all the nazgul and orcs are

No I am not insane. Just a bit crazy or maybe a bit more.