“And down, down to Goblin-town
you go, my lad”, sings the goblins
under the Misty Mountains with
captives, ponies and all they had.
Six thousand years and two ages past
by Elven magic, smiths and hammers
crafted blades were wrought. To orcs
and fell beasts death they brought.
For Turgon King, Foe-hammer he wielded
To the fall of Gondolin on Tumladen’s field.
Orcs and balrogs and Melkor’s creatures
Cried, “Run! Flee! He comes with Beater”.
Gandalf now holds this white blade of steel
Glamdring’s blue glow slew the goblin king.
Through fire and ice and Khazad-dum
On Pelennor’s field to Cirdan’s keel.
Orcrist made by this same elvish lore
Lost in time to a troll cave bye way of Erebor.
To Thorin Oakenshield by Elrond given
Feared o’er ages by Melkor’s minions.
They took their horses for a goblin feast,
“they’ll do just fine as any old beast”.
They drug the dwarves and burg-a-lor,
Through hidden crack at their cave’s front door
Through goblin town the Quest was taken
All but Gandalf we thought lost and forsaken.
With his flame and Thorin’s slash, they cried,
“Run! Flee! It’s Biter the Goblin Cleaver!”