With wit and wisdom, he had pondered
Where will he go, and what shall he do?
For all his knowledge, he had no clue.
A withered wizard westward wandered
All of his wealth, he had it squandered
From the Wind’s Whispers, he must have learned
He got up, left, and never returned.
How long he wandered, he never knew
But he rejoiced when his search struck true
Beneath the earth, he felt an aura
Most sinister, hid well by flora
He knew his search had come to an end
He’d swore to live his life to the end.
And so began the arduous task
Of weaving a spell so crude and crass
It’d make him look a foolish ass!
He’d long ago abandoned all class.
He’d hope and pray It’d take the bait
Or this journey would be quite the waste.
With great relief, he heard Fate giggle
And felt he now had room to wiggle
With little time to truly spare
He stripped down to just his underwear
He spoke in Eldritch tongues forbidden
A show they want? A show, he’d give em’!
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Still, power flowed to him unbidden.
With borrowed juice, his Debts overdue
He used the power he had accrued
To call upon Aspected space-time
Then launched himself through wormhole lifelines.
As he had neared his destination
He couldn’t help but feel frustration
He had always held his oaths before
But why did this one seem to be… more?
As he was spat out, he looked around
And couldn’t help but subtly frown
Although he knew deep down where he was
He had scowled anyways, because
He had arrived, with no great aplomb,
Upon a metaphorical bomb.
And so there he stood (if he could stand)
Upon great pillars of salt and sand
Though, appearances meant little here;
Much could be done with smoke and mirror.
To prove this point, he waved his frail hands;
A second later, new robes and band.
Taking a steady breath at long last,
The wizard began his final task
He ran twelve steps; up, north, down, right
And he came upon quite the strange sight.
He stopped in place, and he turned around
And realized he’d entered a small town.
One could never leave, once they entered;
This did little to stop his venture.
He found himself on Death's door proper
Knowing restraint, he knocked the knocker.
The door was answered by He Himself,
For He Himself was the Gentlest Man
Though very surprised, He did not pry
Why he was here, He thought He knew why.
Though He refused to tell how He knew;
“The secrets of Man are privy to few.”
“What brings you here, honorable Wizard?
Fall off a cliff, or freeze in a blizzard?
If you came to complain, don’t draw my ire;
All must eventually taste true hellfire.”
The wizard spoke, and so now Death knew;
The wizard had come to debate views.
For an eternity, they had talked,
The next was spent in a silent walk.
They had become the greatest of friends
Though that’s another story.
The End.