Fire burns in mist of flame, with green of firmly wrath,
That singe and scorch through all and all, shower in chaos bath.
The land that scarred now and then, be forever be of ruin,
But there are some but those of few who risk it done.
The ancient knight in green of steel whose eyes then gaze the fire,
Whose mind and might that sent afar, of problem that aspire.
With staff in make by thousand souls whose suit had then empower,
For march it did through barren land to stop the threat in an hour.