Légendes Arthuriennes et autres

Légendes Arthuriennes et autres

Ballad of Perceval

Here I stand at Avalon,
Mourning days that now are gone,
To keep a land without a king,
And all the hardship that will bring.

The lady of the lake will call,
The king of men, of God, of all,
To once again take up the sword,
And speak again the Holy word.

While Merlin speaks from ancient tomes,
Throughout the land the dragon roams,
It's breath consuming earth and sky,
And frightens all with piercing eyes.

The lady's touch,
Her subtle steps,
Like faerie's gait,
My mind's beset.

How can I strive when all around,
The stench of death engulfs the crowd,
But with her lo the sword she's brought,
I'm savior now, of Camelot.

"Raise up your sword," her soft command,
"And only then you'll understand,
Your path is set, your way if true,
With Arthur and Morganna slew.

Young Mordred, child of hate and lies,
With dreams of wrath, was well despised,
And slain as well by Arthur hand,
Restoring faith across the land.

Rise up now
And know your role,"
Rang out her gentle,
Subtle lull,

Here I stand at Avalon,
Mourning days that now are gone,
To keep a land and be it's king,
Hail Perceval, the people sing.
Hughson Sharpe

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