Smoldering City Of Cigar Land

Atop my cigar stood a powerful city, one made (unfortunately) out of paper and mere tobacco. The owner struck a match and created a city filled with little people with little families, and little ambitions. The city thrived, but the walls changed as the owner shook the ash from the end and some neighbors were never to be seen again. But the city constantly shrunk, and soon it would be nothing more than a smoldering city in a pile of ash.