The Musings of a Blossoming Alchemist

Brothers, sisters, it’s time to rebel —

It’s time to condemn the slave masters to hell.

This is a rising they cannot quell,

It’s time for their tower to be fell.

I want magic, I want life —

I don’t want the classic “settle-down-as-husband-and-wife” —

I want to burn, I want to feel it all —

Oh how I yearn, to watch this tower fall —

To tell you the truth, nothing would be more tragic,

Than to waste my youth, living life without magic.

Living in the land of the walking dead,

Chained to the pursuit of our daily bread.

All so hungry, yet so overfed,

Of all the metals, we are like lead.