Tales of the hermit

If you squint a little, you would see a figure walking down the same path. There, sits a hermit who tells the old tales to who listens...

He says the path is one

And yet taken by many

You see the potholes

Many have fallen in

A shadow looked lost and pale

Giving up for he sees nothing,

There is a child picking pebble

To see what's beneath it

He tells of the time

When battles were decided with swords

When word of the mouth

Was worth more than gold.

The hermit sees the time and keeps the happenings in mind. And he offers to tell the tale to those who stop and listen to him from time to time.