Wart's Poem

Adventurers come one come all,
Settle down now, try not to brawl!
Keep coming, yes now, through the fog,
Sit down, yes, hear this prologue.

It all started with a silly poll,
put up by a witch with a famous mole.
Wart is blank?, she asked with a smirk,
and as the answers poured in, I went berserk.

Almost noone thought I was cool,
instead I got "Oh a poem! What a jewel!"
For weeks I've tried to ignore the witch,
But she's hounding me like an old hag.

Now I'm forced to compose a tale,
written about our favorite hovel,
I started by searching to no avail,
to find a word that rhymes with hovel.

I reasoned there must be another way,
perhaps a poem about some witches brew!
Eye of newt and pinch of blah blah cliche,
Without too much effort I bid that idea adieu.

What should I compose a poem about?
An ode to our lord, a certain Beo?
Certainly our faith in him is devout,
and good blessing on me, he might bestow.

Behind the scene he plays dungeon master,
quickly responding to most server disasters,
while we the fans, scream faster! Faster!

He's let us all enjoy the child he loves,
Grendels Cave he calls her, leaving us in awe of,
the wonderful game to which I owe the honor,
of writing a poem, if read, makes one a goner.

— Wart —