The Waiting

I remember, when, in my slumber
I was visited by an unknown traveler,
He had come from a distant land
To wake me up, turn me firebrand;
This traveler shared neither his name
Nor the land from where he came.

I raised my voice, joined his chorus
Thinking, its time to be victorious;
The prophetic traveler left one Autumn
Shattered, dismayed, I turned nocturnal,
I dreamt of traveler the whole winter
Until waiting for him did not matter.
Following summer a drifter arrived
Wielding courage of strongest kind,
Spring, Summer, autumn, Winter; I followed 
Reigniting my defeated mind.

An era ended, I did endure,
Who was I? Began to explore;
The fiery drifter vanished in adventure
Without scripture only misled conjecture,
To save myself, I searched for a curing nectar
The nectar against the eternal sleep.

The sleep that cast a star in an iron chest
When it chose not to rise from the East,
I dreamt of the traveler and the drifter
Waited for their likely return.
As I swallowed cure from an invisible chalice,
A burning fear of comfort removed all malice.

I woke up to music played in chorus
A symphony composed for a lifetime,
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter; I followed
No one arrived this time.