---

The name echoes no more
and in its place another lies.
Meek and small, where Virocon was tall.

Gone are the great paths
and in their place - not much;
green grass in a golden sunset.

Roads that once went somewhere,
now lead to rough columns of stone;
grey and cold, and dead,
among archways to nowhere

Virocon.
Virocon.
Virocon.
Virocon.

Now only the birds chatter
and the lazy flies linger
over the ruins of a dead empire.

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