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The Arcane Tower
A distant wind rustled
the leaves, as a faceless
wanderer stood before
the towering gates
which rose out of
the fog.
The door swung open
emanating inviting
warmth from the storm
in formation outside,
where chaos reined.
And thus the wanderer
would enter to lounger
before the fire and
stay a while to lavish on
good food and rich wine
with a host of characters
from many walks of life
drown to the shelter.
And with time as the
sands of the hour glass
slid down, many would come
passing down the candle-lit
halls, while a few grew
old within watching the passage.
But there comes a day
when the tower doors
will close for a final
time, and the halls will
be empty and dark,
dust will grow and the
wind echoes.
9:44 AM - 12/19/2006 -
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