Poem of Chief Ballo

The Poem of Chief Ballo is the oldest poem known to Goblin-kind. It was most likely written around the time of chief Ballo since he was known to be a great poem enthusiast.

The Poem
Fists big as rock,

Unmatched in a fight,

Wielding an old stock,

Challenging a Troll’s height.

From the dark he rose,

Leading all whom he commands,

Many horrors did he dispose,

Bringing order to the muddy lands.

Bonds and walls were erected,

Unity was installed,

But those who defected,

Were quickly enthralled.

Prosperity was achieved,

But no thing lasts forever,

For many within the walls where decieved,

A new enemy grew more and more clever.'

 

Wicked magic was the source,

As many turned against their own,

Slaying each other with no remorse,

If only the old chief had known.'

 

Died in battle against Troll and friend,

Chief Ballo’s legacy lives on in his kin,

However his sons found themselves in a dead end,

They had no idea what mess they were in.'

 

Enthralled they dug through mud and stone,

Until they found an curious ore,

As they touched it their mind was blown,

And received more ideas they could ask for.'

 

With weapons of steam and steel they rose,

Avenging their father and his land,

And as any Goblin knows,

The future looked grand.

Let us remember the Ballows, our home,

And our dear chief, where ever he may roam.