Kings of that land always say to boys,
That tranquility is all, not war, that brings joy;
Such a point is unfamiliar to a child known as Link,
Who thinks that doom constantly doth shrink.
Obviously, as you know: that kingdom is sound,
Dissimilar to Koridai, which horror doth surround;
Harkinian did insist that his boy go and assist,
To go forth and fight Ganon - fist to fist.
Voyaging across Goronu, and in a shop, Morshu says,
"Lamp oil? Bombs? You want it?" - Link nays;
Such unavailing tools do no good for a saviour,
For much vigor was within him, with origins in Scandinavia.
Two months on, Link had found his goal,
That lair, in which Ganon doth stay - 'twas black as coal;
Our saviour, with a magic book, and Ganon said with a gurn:
"Nooo! Not into that pit! It BURNS!!"
On coming back again to Harkinian's court,
Gwonam was in, sporting an awful big wart;
This man did toast his victory, 'twas a glorious hit,
For this wizard had known it - as it was writ.
Onboard his magic rug, flying through yon sky,
Birds did chirp happily, with all sounds on high;
Link was joyfully having so much fun,
Proudly shouting with a grin, "I won!"