High in his dim,
ghost-haunted tower
Zukala sits alone
Like a spider spinning his webs of power
Upon his moon-pale throne...

All through the long,
star-spectral night
The tower knows no tread
Save for sometime, the eerie light
Swift footfalls of the dead,

He does not sleep,
and his eyes are deep,
as the seas of Falgarai
(...)

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