Alas, there was no charge. For he was a nub
But lo! Was there not a great stone wall
rearing from the fathomless depths below?
Filbus thought, Surely here is my salvation!
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He came by underwater passages
To the center of a volcanic remnant
A mountain that remembered the distant
Battles, when the dragons fought the gods.
This was a most heavenly island
But a quick tour revealed Filbus was wrong
Here were not the ancient combine spires
Here were black guys and a dwarf drinking rum
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Using his riches, Filbus purchased
Many bottles of Captain Oriin's fine ale
He quaffed heavily of these ignoble potions
and slumbered deep upon the dwarf's bed
In the morning they kicked him out
“You are loud and drunk” the infidels said
And Filbus was too cottonmouthed and tired
To take up blade and cut out their hearts.
As he fled their paradisal island,
headed west, to where he knew he must,
he thought on his new friends pitifully,
was that not a marvelous slice of culture?
He made his drunken way to the western rim
Fought a fire gator and killed the beast
At last, he spied 'pon that blue horizon
What he sought! The spires, the spires!