by Nick Gisburne
Remember Maga, Land of Those Who Lost
Recall its twisted demons, how they raged
A mighty wall, unfinished, at what cost?
The prisons, where the little ones were caged
An orange painted monster seized the prize
He soiled the white-walled palace, sick with hate
Polluted streams of poison spilled his lies
His appetite for worship none could sate
To save his crown the Maganites marched on
He promised he would lead them up the hill
But when they stormed the summit he was gone
The tyrant never fought, and never will
The power from his tiny hands has passed
We pray the gods will let his silence last
