Just something I put together, imagine a tale told by Zecora
Come sit and hear my tale of lore,
On parasprites in days of yore.
Before the sisters ruled the land,
And moved the heavens on command.
When farmers toiled day and night,
Their labors split by those with might.
In just a town like any other,
To no one it was a bother.
As happens often 'twas a filly,
Within some game of children silly.
Chanced on a creature, brought it back,
And soon the one was quite a pack.
Their numbers blotted out the skies,
Around all you'd hear were cries.
As they ate all that they could see,
And multiplied in morbid glee.
Eventually the answer found -
The sprites love most melodic sound.
Were cleared away, a bit too late,
The damage done was much to great.
The fields abandoned, left in dust,
As all the tools gave way to rust.
What was a town, now is not,
Just shells of buildings left to rot.
As ages passed, the forest grew,
And soon the land was clean anew.
The place was quiet - or so it seemed,
Yet in the caves some sprites still dreamed.
What were some lessons to be heeded,
Were now seen as things not needed.
Forgotten words of yesteryear,
Of dealing with this plague severe.
As time passes, things are lost,
Yet history will take its cost.
To those ignoring lessons past,
Your path is fraught with dangers vast.