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 ther rarest mushrooms
as the eagles flew he counted tree rings    
indenting the roots of 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 with bipolar with doctorate degree
for this was a world of medicine and mental deficiency
yesterday he howled at the moon and cloaked the stars
today he is a sad man longing for a trip to Mars

He the ancient warrior of days of old
fights the good battle everyday, with tools of old
mistletoe on oak, he held his staff
all the time knowing his time would pass

Written by: Mystic Rose
For a friend who suffers from bipolar