Micro SF/F stories by O Westin
The desert wind now
Wails with ancient shades:
The once-proud masters
Of salted Carthage
"Had we won," they howl,
"How magnanimous we'd be.
Let Rome remain, we'd say,
It can't compete
With Carthage.
With Carthage,
Now gone."
And there,
In the desert,
They lie.
#poem
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