Alas! A people, free from hate,
Pursuing only peace and goodness, their fate
Was to be ruined, their dreams unmet,
Though a dream in themselves, they paid the debt.
For when with that people was First Contact made,
Their dreams were shattered, their hopes fade.
They lost their dreams, a reality took place,
Though it was to come, for peace was their base.
Existing in a universe that cannot fathom such a life,
A universe that understands only strife.
This people, changed, as change will come,
This slash of violence left them numb,
Must adapt to a universe who would harm all,
This people, now found, must hark to the call.
For, now found, forever known they are,
No longer just a distant star.
This people, they who had no hate,
Must charge through that new-opened star-gate,
Though never have dreamed of doing others harm,
That seed, now sown, they now must farm.
Must cultivate something they knew not of before,
This people, so innocent, that now knew more.
Once changed first, can never change back,
For though it seemed they had no lack,
A lack was found, and therefore filled,
For never before had they ever killed.
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