OOH I GOT THIS I USED TO WRITE POEMS ABOUT NATIVES.
TITLE: How the Sun was made
On a cold and dark day, a tribe was beginning to pray. the children could not go out and play, for it was dark all the way, and nobody was there to blame. The food was nowhere in sight, all the people had fright, that if they won’t see food tonight, they may have to fight. As the children fell asleep, the people dared to even peep, for they were concentrating on the fire, that was indeed dire. As the cold air blew, the fire swept away with it too. Just as all hope was lost, they saw the mighty Hephaestus’ arms crossed. He exclaimed that there will be day, where it won’t be dark so you can lay, in the baking sun, all the children could have fun, but they had to pay. The tribe agreed to take half their night, and replace it with the sun to find animals to fight. (IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG! I got way too involved with the story haha)
