Once upon a time ...
there has been soil:
huge and small, solid as soft.
A piece of it was chosen,
the necromancers gift:
earth occurred.

Out of the innermost abyss
fire appeared –
such a strange phantom,
blazing and glowing.
And in fire everything should end:
pending elemental unity.

Pleased was even the air,
a silent herald,
indeed at that poor landscape.
Has done well its duty:
settled down
and drifted away nevermore.

Out of the cool water
human approached,
recently as guest.
Back into water he will go,
when all magic’s time collapses,
and all breathing ceases.

The least attention alas
was paid to wisdoms mirror,
called spirit as well.
Thus no-one was noticing
that spirit doesn’t mind
about guests,

it rather completes
the arcane circle.