In darkness stood the noble knight

keeping vigil at the castle gate,

at the break of dawn

the enemy would come

and the bloodshed would be great.

Mistakes were made, a price to pay,

the high cost of monarchy.

A hard fought life, unfaithful wife,

and the crime of sorcery.

Bastard child of a worthless king,

the words made his soul bleed.

Yet a hero he’d become,

a people he made one,

with a sword none could wield but he.

In the silence of his retrospect

he let his head hang low.

The pain felt from a friend’s betrayal,

the son he’d never know.

He tried to live a righteous life,

show ethics in his deeds,

and though he was pure of heart ,

fate had brought him to his knees.

He stood for what was right,

a symbol of true integrity,

and though the weight of the world

lay on him now,

he’d not give into self defeat.

As darkness gave way to the light,

he wondered how it would end.

Would the battle be worth the cost in life?

Would the broken kingdom mend?

Come nightfall the fight was over

and as eons passed it was said,

that he was the greatest of all the kings,

though, at the dawn, both hero and son

lay on the battlefield dead.

As the centuries slowly went by

men spoke in tale and song,

of the wizard, the hero, his magical sword,

and the fall of Avalon.