Fifteen Miles Up
There’s a town fifteen miles up the road
Well more of a prison really
“Since that is the direction I’m headed
Perhaps give a fellow practitioner a friendly warning.”
The town is run by a magician
A magician with the dreams of a city
A slave population to build it
So he swept up the radius,
cooked up their souls down to ash…
turned them into ants
An inhumane endeavour, thinking became illegal
“But you’re still here!?”
Yes, indeed I am.
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