No aimless wandering in deserted barren lands,
The servant lonely, forlorn, ever vigilant,
Waiting, biding his time
Wields the ancient sword in the defense of righteousness.
The intrepid wanderer fulfilling a destiny laid out in ages long past
Wearing on him mile after weary mile coming at last to journey’s end.
The land is desolate; the inhabitants bereft.
Fatigued from battle, the king comes to his own once more.
By his hand there is healing;
New life takes root.
Coronal joy celebrates the victory.
The flowering tree graces the new dynasty announcing fulfillment of promise.
New life supernal crowns the king.