Long ago, there was a man who stood
On the outskirts of a village he once fought for
The gates were rusted, painted with blood
With prejudice he was banished by the conqueror

"You shall set foot in these grass no more
Or set your gaze upon the town's sunsets
You shall not walk, cruise, or pass its stones
Do so and be met with blades and arrows."  

With great grit he smiled
As if he was welcomed with beer and wine
As if the banners were hung
As if the people sang the song of victory  

"If it is your decree, my majesty then
I shall leave my home, my people
I shall flee to the West,
And towards it I shall run endlessly."

With vigor and aplomb he added;
"But my king, you shall not forget
That a man who treads the West
Is destined to reach the East again."

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
So days, weeks, years yet not long after,
He who once renounced a marvelous knight
Became he who shouts at passing rats

One day while begging alms with cupped palms
His ears, wrinkled and old but still clear; heard a familiar voice
And his eyes, sank by time and forlorn,
Witnessed the return of the stars, the moon, the sun

“I have walked, ran, and rode in my journey
I have met, slain, and aided people in my journey
Yet in the wars I’ve fought during my voyage,
None was harder than what you’ve put me through.”

“And now I return.”
The king, now a mere vagabond, closed his eyes
Hearing the familiar sound of a sword unsheathing, he whispered
“And now you return.”