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In the murky depths,
Where the water meets land,
Lives a creature, unnamed,
With mud-caked feet and hands.
The Swamp Hobbit, they call him,
A being of legend and lore,
Whispered to haunt the marshes,
And stalk the wetlands floor.
He shuns the light of day,
Preferring the gloom,
And seldom ventures forth,
From his murky, damp room.
So if you wander out,
In the swamps after dark,
Beware the Swamp Hobbit,
And his mysterious mark.