07
Nov
Between two towers of ivory make,
Sits a city, a village, an island state.
The wizards of those towers, each other they hate,
Throwing barbs, and knives with mischievous haste.
This war has raged on, it is centuries late,
And in the middle we lay, continuing to wait.
But our patience wears thin, and our souls, they ache,
It’s time to move on, and found our City-State.
