The crypt is brim with ancient relics
the crypt-keeper grins, holding edifying totemics.
The atmosphere is dim,
because your cans were left on the bright green grounds.
My keeper has a dim view of clutter.
I didn't read the sign:
"No mistakes please, and we'll get along.
Trust me, you'll hate these spells
I will have to cast on you."
I walked back home on the only roads.
I was calm. All roads lead to Rome.
When in Rome,
my relics were labeled.
The crypt was looted and rooted for food for my own good.
Thank you.
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