Ddraigspelt – An Orc Love Poem
by Smagnu (with help from Llinos) 

Ddraigspelt, your name means dragon's skin
And tells of the maid that lies within.
A maid so strong with iron fist,
You'll not be laid, or even kissed.

An Uruk maid with eyes of flame
That burn so bright, my heart you maim.
With arms so sturdy and muscles taut,
You'll not be wooed, nor yet be bought.

But your odour, so rank and sweet,
Awakes my senses as succulent meat.
Your flesh so jagged it feels like scales,
And teeth as sharp as piercing nails.

I longed to lay my head on your chest
And run my tongue along your breast.
I lusted for your dragon's thighs,
So I made my court with oaths and lies.

Your hips are wide and call me in,
Belying the snarl beneath your grin.
Although I can't take you without a fight,
Your soul cries out as you growl and bite.

We were fated to mate, but not to bide,
Though your wore my mark, you were not my bride,
For we are the fighting Uruk hai!
There is no love for you or I.

For how can an Uruk – no more a maid –
Bend to a master or be afraid?
How can a butcher, born to kill
Slake his lust, whilst keeping still?

Oh Ddraigspelt you could not be mine,
Eyes as crimson as burnished wine,
Fangs like ice and heart still colder,
You are gone, yet in my soul you smoulder!