the drums beat out a warning,
*** dum bah, *** dum bah
as the dancers begin to spin,
the fire swirls higher, in the growing wind.

a shout rings out from warriors throats
like a trilling banshee wail,
spears raised, and shaken in the air,
a message, nobody will be spared.

a shaman joins in,
mask just like a shield,
painted like a monster,
that sets feet, running in the field.

he casts a spell upon the fighters,
and sends them on their way,
with knives and spear points gleaming,
to make interlopers pay.

as they move from the fire,
shadows do they cast,
of jaguars, tigers and bears,
tapping ancient lives past,

silent in the darkness,
through the jungle do they stride,
moving all as one,
like lions in a pride.

circling the enemy,
they attack without a sound,
leaving nothing but bodies,
stacked upon the ground.

blades and spear points drip,
like the ****** fangs they are,
a few limp and smile about,
their future battle scars.