In the tender arms of the murmuring breeze,
The young man strides beneath skies that please,
A heart that flows, boundless and free,
Gathering tales from land, sky, and sea.

In villages hushed, he discovers pure peace,
In markets alive, the sounds never cease,
The forest whispers with leaves that confide,
While oceans chant with the pull of the tide.

He chisels words from the sunlight's gleam,
Weaving stars into a timeless dream,
Each city a stanza, each step a refrain,
His verses rise like an endless chain.

Yet veiled in beauty, the world bears its scars,
Deceit and darkness beneath gilded stars,
Intrigue festers in the shadow of the throne,
Evil dances where virtue feels alone.

But steadfast he stands, unbowed by despair,
His melodies shatter the lies in the air,
Words forged in truth, a beacon's light,
Piercing through the heart of night.

Oh, wanderer bold, child of the gale,
Each step you tread leaves an eternal trail,
A dream to conquer with poetic might,
To crown the world in beauty's light.

Immortal bard, your name shall ascend,
Through ages untold, where verses extend,
A hymn of wonder, in hearts to reside,
An endless legacy, a soul's great stride.

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Phaestian, in the year 966 AF.