The wizard he waits with wand in his hand,
He's waited for ages to conquer this land
Secluded, he dwells, no friend and no mate...
His thoughts in a frenzy; a psychotic state
He sits on his throne
With malice on mind
No kindness awaits
For those he will find
His power so great
He once ruled as King...
And mastered this land...
all his for the asking
And on All Hallow's Eve he raises his hell...
Dumping all his dead bodies...
Down the 'ole Wishing Well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem