And here there is another tale
That right now must be told;
A tale our wizard friend had lost
'Midst memories of old.
Once there was a little town
Along a sunny road,
A quiet road quite seldom walked,
Where once a carriage slowed.
And from this carriage stepped a man
(I'm sure that you've guessed who).
He mildly looked around and said,
"I think this spot will do."
And then he smiled and began
To win the townsfolk's favor.
He hired them: some miners, masons,
"Right here a tower must be built!
It is the king's decree —"
(It wasn't really, but this cruel man
Was cunning as could be.)
"And once the tower has been raised,
Your pay shall be dispensed.
You'll all be given land to farm
And food aplenty thence."
The workers worked, the tower grew,
The wizard watched and waited.
But the gold the workers all received
Was a glamour he'd created.
He tricked them all but didn't care;
He hadn't come to bring
Fairness or joy or any such nonsense —
He'd come to do wizardly things!
With his tower built, he turned to his studies:
Scrawling scrolls, brewing potions . . .
Turning men to hogs.
As years went by, he came across
An ancient mystic's prophecy,
Which told of trees and acorn seeds
The wizard grabbed his scrolls and left
That little town headfirst.
He left behind his hated tower
Along with those he'd cursed.