Greetings, child, are you feeling lost?
Kumungu jungle is an eerie host.
Watch your step; you walk among plants
who perceive you as something less than mere ants.
You see, we do hunger, striving and starving,
patiently waiting for folks like you, darling,
to fall in the Stranglethorn trap unsuspecting,
foolishly laws of the wildlife neglecting.
Dinner is served and you are the main course,
running is futile; surrender your life force.
You are a prey who just thinks that is clever,
we will be chasing you now and forever.
Nature is sometimes tricky and vicious,
for once I embraced a sorceress delicious.
Her flesh and my vines, they somehow got merged,
a hybrid phenomena bloomed and emerged.
We are the Zyra and this land is mine!
Blood shall be splattered through my vengeful vine!
Seasons reversed: I spring as mankind mourns,
falling, I welcome you to my game of thorns.