There stood above the land of sage, a very special place-
Where griffins flew to share their thoughts of Chivalry and grace.
Among the rocky crags, how they would laugh and dance and chase,
But words were never used to harm like sword or axe or mace.

Here, songs of valor filled the air and echoed through the halls.
The works of master artisans adorned the stony walls.
The efforts which had built this place required more than mauls,
And even heated arguments did not erupt in brawls.

How noble was their porpose and their sentiments, the same.
One golden rule had governed them to keep discussions tame:
Since fire burned so hot and fierce like words of hate and blame,
The halls of their enlightenment would not be lit with flame.

One day when herrings were discussed, a sight they did espy:
"What miracle is this?" they asked, "A pig with wings to fly!"
They sallied forth en masse, each calling out his greeting cry
To bring this stranger to their home - their brother in the sky.

The pig was made most welcome, and invited to debate,
But all that issued from its mouth was incoherent hate.
"Perhaps it doesn't know our ways!  Perhaps it's not too late!
If we could only make it sing, its heart would lose its weight!"

Their efforts were Herculean; on that pig, how they'd dote!
Despite the lessons with the pig, it wouldn't sing a note.
The pig became annoyed, for it had thought the lessons rote:
"How dare they try to make me sing, and treat me like a goat!"

Bizarre revenge had filled its mind and clouded it with ire;
The pig snuck out to seek a torch to set the place afire!
But clumsiness had changed its plans; its wings became a pyre,
And not a griffin shed a tear to see the pig expire.

The griffins wrestled with the thought of one beyond their ken,
Of how they had accepted one straight from the serpent's den,
And if another came to them, would they so try again?
They said they would, for open minds can always find a friend.