Deep in the humid jungle
Far from civilisation,
A small tribe lived its simple life
A tiny, yet peaceful, nation.

Some explorers came upon them.
The villagers stared in wonder,
At these tall men, from another world,
Whose voices roared like thunder.

The strangers spoke a strange, harsh tongue.
Its like had not been heard.
This they taught the villagers,
Slowly, word by word.

The headman received so many gifts:
An arrow to point direction;
A tall and stately hat of silk;
And a plate to show reflection.

The strangers built a miracle,
A structure with walls of wood.
The villagers carried supplies for them,
For helping friends is good.

They hunted game in jungle's depths
So their guests were fully fed,
And their guests just smiled and nodded,
And took their daughters to their beds.

They burned the village idol
And replaced it with their own.
The holy man went away one night
And his fate remains unknown.

Now it is ten years later
And the huts are all torn down.
Only a rotting wooden structure
Landmarks the jungle town.

Its people left the trees
And work in fields instead,
Except the very lucky few
Who remain there, cold and dead.

So beware the wondrous stranger
And the magic that he brings.
Every gift wrapped present
Is sure to have its strings.

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Aeguary, in the year 383 AF.