Hobo nye

In shadows cast by fading light, a hobo named Nye, With straw hat perched atop his head, 'neath starry sky. A human spirit, once a knight, he bore a noble quest, To serve and save an orphanage, where dreams found rest. His armor gleamed, his sword was bold, a guardian so true, Defending innocence and hope, his heart forever grew. Yet time did pass, as seasons do, his noble mission done, He wandered from his gallant path, the world had come undone. Now Nye, the hobo in the night, with tattered rags and grace, He carried stories in his heart, etched on his weathered face. A knight transformed, a spirit free, his past a distant call, He walked a different journey now, where shadows gently fall. Beneath the moon, he found his peace, in a boxcar's humble keep, With stories whispered to the winds, and secrets buried deep. Though straw hat shielded from the rain, his soul was never wet, For in his heart, a noble knight, the world would not forget. So raise a glass to Nye, the hobo with a past so grand, A human spirit, once a knight, who still roams this land. In his straw hat, beneath the stars, he found a different grace, A hero's spirit, undying, in the heart's quiet embrace.