The Mystical Mandarin

Cloaked in Shadows of Mystery

The young man lived on the open barren street,

He kept away from the hills, eating bread and no meat.

It was dangerous for him when the night came,

There was no safety and there was no friend,

Only danger lurking at every dark street bend.

Zhang lived on the unsafe streets for several years,

Where he spent his entire life and shed a million tears,

When his parents were captured by an evil Warlord,

Who sold them to a Slave trader who took them across the seas,

For fifty gold and silver coins, gems, and other currencies.

He was a teenager now with no place to call his home,

But to move from village to village as far as he could roam.

In medieval China, the Emperor, Kings, and Warlords ruled,

Over the lands when summer fell and when winter cooled,

The plum blossom and the cherry blossoms were magical in spring,

The people were oppressed by every tyrant who became king.

The people of the land had lost so much over the years,

Every invasion left them poorer and in floods of tears.

Zhang was happy with the way he lived,

It was a life of freedom and ease,

He was free to do as he pleased.

To the young ladies, he was always a delight.

He was also pretty good and won almost every fight,

No one would come close to him and fight him alone,

As he moved like a panther and fought like a lion.

He had learned to control his sleeping dragon.

A warrior monk had taught him for several years,

The art of fighting and defeating one’s inner fears.

Then one winter’s day, as the grey mists cleared,

From the mountains came the mysterious Mandarin,

No one knew who he was or what he did,

But when he walked the streets people hid.

It was a cold winter night when Zhang was sleeping,

On a silent, dark, and deserted village street,

A gang of thieves surrounded him as he lay on the floor,

They hit him with sticks and threw him towards a closed door.

Just when Zhang thought that he had met his end,

Out of the shadows came a mysterious friend,

Who used his mystical powers to quickly defeat,

The robbers and thugs till they dropped to his feet.

The stranger took Zhang bleeding and terribly bruised,

Back to an enchanted cave where he stayed.

A young woman nursed Zhang back to health again,

It was a month till he could talk and walk again.

Li jing was a beautiful spirited woman,

The wife of the powerful Mandarin,

Who was always cloaked in shadows,

Surrounded in an air of magic and mystery.

The face of the Mandarin was always hidden from view,

Shrouded from sun, rain, frost, and mountain dew.

The young man became an apprentice,

Learning a lot through skill and practice,

With his mentor and protector, the mystic Mandarin,

He learned to reveal the powers he held within.

The Mandarin taught him his magic, his codes, and his chants,

To command all wildlife on land and sea to obey,

To perform mystical tricks out of leaves, bricks, and clay.

He could create visions and apparitions out of thin air,

Like beasts, dragons, and enchanting beauties so rare.

One summer day the village was under threat,

From a warlord and there was no time to fret.

The evil and ambitious warlord Jiao-long,

Who was powerful and terribly strong,

He was going to destroy the village before long.

He commanded an army of a thousand men,

Who rode wild horses into every nook and den.

The village and its terrified people were surrounded,

They were well and truly outnumbered and grounded.

There was no escaping the warriors and their greed,

They were going to take all the food and money too,

Even more, than they would ever need to do.

The men were armed with every dagger and sharp sword,

With the toughest armor provided by the evil Warlord.

Suddenly, out of the woods came a mysterious fire,

Which grew in size and rose higher and higher.

As the villagers peered, they saw deep within,

The figure of the mysterious and mystical Mandarin.

The Mandarin used his powers of fires and light,

To drive the Warlord and his men to a terrible plight,

As they lost their movement and their sight.

The power of the Mandarin had won yet again,

As the people chased the blinded warlord and his men,

Into the woods where they were never seen again.

The Mystic Mandarin disappeared once again,

He had saved his village and his people,

From poverty, sadness, and oppression.

When Zhang opened his eyes, he was shocked to see,

That the person he had always been within,

Was the powerful and mystical Mandarin.

All that Zhang had lived, loved, and been,

Every emotion which he had felt and seen,

Was part of the illusion and the ultimate test,

For him to reveal his powers and his psychic best.

Zhang was more than an ordinary mortal man,

He was part of a universal and mystical plan.

Zhang possessed the powers of nature and great forces within,

He was and would always be till eternity, the supernatural Mandarin.