Tyre

Walk hand in hand through sunset

In the time of Artemis Age 

The lying wolf, the stumbling fool

In the presence of a stricken mage.

Raise your glass to limestone 

To the edge where boulders form,

A cubic rite from a squared device

Architect of the forgotten four.

Built against a seascape,

Is your fortress made of wood?

Sticks and stones leave broken bones

And an army's breaking yours!