Who art thou?

Diminutive people of this far-off ground

Amidst singsong voices of indecipherable gibberish

Whilst veiling a wisdom of the ages

To an outsider

Wearer of conical hats looming large and low

Blocking sun

But not the eyes . . . eyes that see all  

And nothing at all

A nonentity

Amongst the rice

And insanity

Blackened teeth stained with betel nut

Callused hands from the scythe

Tykes riding herd on water buffalo

While biding time

with practiced insouciance

A peaceful people;

Nevertheless,

Bellicose within their hearts n’ minds

Easy picking for the Overlord—camouflaged huntsmen

Forever Seeking