The Wizard

The Wizards cyclic pattern and the rebirth of his knowledge , short poem

No justice from the system
No chariots for the Lord
The apprentice no longer young
But old withered and cold
With his Master dead and buried
No one left for the teaching
Like a cat without a tongue
No longer shall he preach
Until the day of rising sun with moon
The chosen one arrives
A staff and kit upon his back
And the deepest Wizard eyes
I am your new master
And obedient you shall be
Until your apprenticeship is served
And than if I shall
I will cast you free
Fifty moons have past and gone
He was now a learn ed one
The apprenticeship was signed and sealed
Be gone by the rise of the sun
And the moon and sun were the same that morn
The chosen one arrived
So he and I are now chosen ones
In all others eyes