They come with axes and brimstone fire,
With hatred and screams for the ones who grow,
Branches and flowers provoke their ire,
All puffed up together, the ones who walk know,
That they are all powerful on this earth.

Happiness enthusiast. Python over-user. @factchain cofounder.

"What a strange little people" thinks the forest-tree,
"It was only yesterday that they got on their feet."
"Did they bring gifts and chants, is that for me?"
"I shall treat them well, give my root as a seat,"
"After-all their time is short on this earth."