He was an ancient warrior from times of old
back in the days when the sun was new
and the stars at night were brilliant blue
like the Canopus star he once knew
Often, he was found rummaging the forest
looking for the rarest mushrooms
as the eagles flew he counted tree rings
indenting the roots of his ancestry wings
Then one day, he was reborn again
in an era of squabble filled with wars
silence became an oddity full of slew
and "The Sacred" a rarity hidden in full view
They tagged him "bipolar" with doctorate degree
this was a world of medicine & mental deficiency
yesterday he howled at the moon * starkly stars
today he is a sad man, longing for a trip to Mars
He, ancient warrior of days of old
fights the good battle everyday,
mistletoe on oak, he holds his staff
all the time knowing time does pass.
Written by: Mystic Rose
Dedicated to a friend, who suffers from bipolar.
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