"So hows been ye'r day, lil' bud,
At the borders of the gloomy woods,
Enjoyed the grains of wild grass?
This giant had whole sheds of food."
"The day's been calm, under the lights dim, et the borders of the gloomy woods,
As for the delicacies my big sire,
Fresh with dew and tastes pretty good."
"Won't ye' hear 'bout today's menu;
Fresh from yõKtor the village of ours,
The stacks of food, unimaginable for ye' even through the golden showers."
"Unimaginable, yes for sure, the roasted leap-quicks and salads of berries? But unlike you quaffin' giants, we don't brawl o'er petite queries."
" Brawl, yes we do, cause we'r born brawlers,
Unlike you scraggy folk; to moth's flaps who cower, at a sight of a mere farm worm you scurry back to ye'r usual bower."
"Calling us cowards and of no use;
How wrong of a path on you are,
We taught the babblin' giants to speak
Our history goes back very far."
"Oh you 'member the humble beginnings but you don't the medieval destruction,
enough talk with you muddle head,
I'll leave for the yõKtor junction."
I'm sure we'll meet again, with you having a broken jaw and cracked shins, go, live a luxurious life while
I pass time with my dear kins.
~Ajay
July 2016
