The Dingles and Dongles fought over two hills For nigh a millenia or even longer still. They fought on the low, they fought on the high. They fought with tomatoes, string peas, and cream pies.
Their two hills stood stride a river like a great foot With rich soil shared between them as dark as black soot. Their hamlets grew strong and with their excess they compete Over who does which better again and again on repeat.
The leader of one, styled The Great Ding Gathered his people and said a few things: "Lookit us now, so great in number; Lettus show them: that we cant be torn 'sunder!"
"We need a symbol, to show we aren't afraid, To show we are greater, some great display! We'll build a tower, that's what we'll do; Tall like no other! We'll paint it blue!"
Across the great river, where the other hill lie The king known as Dongler, saw with a sigh "Lookit them cheat" motioning to their build "They presume to rise higher" he told his Masons Guild.
"They'll say now their's is taller!" one of them agreed. "Our Hills Fame might falter!" one did conceed. "So what must we do?" King Dongler asked with a smile. "Get to work at once!" as they left single file.
And so rose their tower, which they crowned with orange, And christened their pride with splendor and splendorange, And their fluteflaffles did play as did their clopqulops, As they rang in their triumph and return to the tops.
The Dings were dismayed, if only a short while, Til they built another blue that rose for a mile. And so it continued turn after turn, For the Dings and the Donglers had a great lesson to learn.
Days turned to years, and years back to days, As the story sped up and moved ahead a ways. Generations came and went, as tower and tower acruded. Ding and Dongler fought with man, mortar, and food.
After time had passed and the towers grew in size, The food stores with which they fought, began to grow dry. "A blight on the lands" All their priests did decree, "Caused by their evil ways, obviously!"
So on and on they fought but now with stick and stone, As fighting changed from smashed fruit to broke bone, And peril was great in these dark years, Seeing smile, hearing joke less oft than tears.
Until one young hero rose with a shout: "HEY YOU OTHER GUYS WHATS THIS FIGHTING ABOUT?" In the silence far and wide for a pause, Not a man, sheep, or wolf, rose for a true cause.
No ordinary man had brought fourth this query For even his origin, or so goes the theory: A lost scion of house Ding whose father took a Dongler to wife A Hero of all, to rid us of strife.
"WOULDN'T TOWERS GROW TALLER" he continued with a yell, "IF WE ALL WORKED TOGETHER! THINK WHAT WE COULD IMPEL! A TOWER FOR ALL! A TOWER SO GRAND! A TOWER FOR UNITY, A TOWER FOR THE LAND!"
After a turn without fighting the food even returned And growth increased fueled by what learned. Together it grew great, and together goal met For it was together they had the power, to never forget.
To Remember what was forgot, and what they forgot to forget: That to grow old is an end, an end not to abet. And that bygones must bygone whether by lion or scion.
With food fights returned as friend played at foe, As peace replaced war and the tower grew so. The problems of the world one by one at ease. The facets aligned, each one appeased.
As the foot continued to decay and the story came to an end The tower they called Ding-Dongler continued to ascend. The rhymes seem familiar but you recall the story's been told The story of remembering not to grow old.