The virgins were sacrificed
For fun and for pleasure.
Moctezuma gazed over Tenochtitlan,
Blinking at his leisure.

The nation was arrayed in
The formation of victory;
They’d exterminated the strangers,
With the exception of two or three

Trained in the art of surrender
And broken captivity.
Their leader’s beard was to be used
In religious ceremony.

The fool who’d tried to conquer
The Aztecs was now dead.
His body was mutilated,
As was Cortez’s head.

After the defeat none
Of his ilk would dare invade.
The rumblings of a war-like people
Made a throbbing serenade.

The Spaniards had come
For Glory, God, and Gold;
They’d met dishonour, their God,
And the decaying mold.

The prisoners of doom
Had the vengeance of ague.
Smallpox to the Aztecs is
Like in Europe the black plague.

The existence of a nation
By smallpox was mended,
Just as the world
On their calendar ended.