Once a time drenched in darkness, over the Great Kingdom rose claws of fire
In haste the King sent his sages to have the flames expire.
Soon after, the people rejoiced for this King,
And every passing day hence, for the King, the bells would ring.
However, afterward the King brought forth his ill-bred reign,
And the people felt a certain disdain:
They sought a brave, honourable king.
It came to be, on a nearing day, the bells would cease to ring.
The people of the Kingdom had the King banished.
"O Lord, show me the way," The King's voice said.
He ventured through fields, forests, valleys:
And he went to the ocean and felt the sea breeze.
Though what he was searching for, he knew not,
What he was banished for, he forgot.
He was upon the verge of death-
Yet of a sudden was rescued on his closing breath.
He awoke on the highest mountain top,
He stood up, and upon his shoulder felt a raindrop.
Through the stormclouds, hung in the grey sky,
A gallant, majestic Diadem, the most appealing to the eye.
"Take hold of yonder Diadem, and take thine Kingdom back," Said the spirit.
"'Tis too far in the clouds, I cannot reach it."
"Believeth in thyself, and glory thou shalt keep."
Without the hold of fear, the King leapt into the storm's deep.
He grasped the Diadem, splitting the storm asunder:
Throughout the Kingdom, roared the echo of thunder.
Upon his return, the people rejoiced once again.
And his tales of olde are spoken now and then:
About a King who wore a holy Diadem-
The people who condemned him,
The exile he wandered about away from them,
The spirit that led him to the sacred gem,
The transformation into Honour from the reign of the fool-
And of the bells that rang for his rule.