Now, Oran fought a hundreds wars,
And lost a million three.
He gave it up for his bad luck,
And fell upon his knees.
Matera seized him by his soul,
As so he chose to do.
But now he sees what is not there,
His vision now askew!
"Invaders! Invaders!” Came a shout,
He saw them breaching forth!
All the men who trusted him,
Set out upon the north.
Imagine their surprise and shock,
When nothing did assail.
When asked about the missing fight,
Did Oran rant and rail:
“I saw it! I saw it!” was his reply.
“It was clear as if the sun!”
But clearly Matera had taken him
And used him for his fun.
So now, dear Oran is all but lost,
In respect and other ways.
A slave to Matera and adrift in life,
To spend the rest of his days.
But let this be a lesson to those,
Who fights and never does win.
Avoid the ale; Instruo prevails!
And let not Matera come in!
-Glossary-
Matera: Literally, the squirrel god of fermentation/alcohol.
Instruo: The squirrel god of readiness and swift decision.
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