And then that wizard, mad as he,
Fleshed out a grievous plan.
He drew on scrolls, of ages old,
and plotted out the land.
He drew the town of Thorn that day,
Every happy man and wife,
He drafted all the little kids,
He sketched all things of life.
"I could not figure out their moods,
Or spoil all their days.
Perhaps they'll notice what they'll miss,
Whatever I erase."
So with his craft, deviously
He made a map of ink
Of every thing that lays on Dree
From center and to brink.
"Vicious girl, deny me so?
I've still got tricks to spare.
I'll rub them out, their homes and all,
I'll send them to nowhere!"
And so he started rubbing
The lines he drew of Thorn
And, bit by bit, a void had come
To make the town unborn.