It was a lone day when the thief stood beneath the willow tree
His transgressions were many, desolation lay behind him easily
He stood there ill beneath the wavering leaves with his plight

He had been sick for many a year with his illness never waning
No healer, physician, or any could help him even with training
He stood there ill beneath the wavering leaves with his plight

A sudden ray of light dappled through the swaying branches now
A solemn ray of hope in his spirit began to swell and now flow
He stood there ill beneath the wavering leaves with his plight

The rays dappled soft goldens, searing white, a fiery red fire
A solemn voice echoed for him to repent and achieve his desire
He stood there ill beneath the wavering leaves with his plight

Confusion at first then anger followed by some thoughtful time
He remembered those he hurt, the chaos he sowed, several crime
He stood there ill beneath the wavering leaves with his plight

Remorse welled in him with change of heart with a vow newfound
He stepped towards the radiant rays along fiery fires surround
He stood there ill surrounded now fire and light in his plight

A thief went into the purging light and flames
Emerged anew a man who would never be the same

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Sarapin, in the year 910 AF.