deepundergroundpoetry.com

Camelot

I.

The wind grew silent, the night... still.
The pagan earth unleashed her blow.
Who could deny, in truth, the nil
Measure of worth wrath would bestow.
A tranquil calm, the vision... spent,
(All memory retained in jest),
To heed the psalm of dreams forewent
That brought to knee both King and Quest.

As if Sanctity could preserve
A chance dared not within her gate.
This enmity I thus reserve,
Untimely lot, to seal her fate.
For what is left of hope that I
Embrace futility, profound?
With all bereft, unto the eye
Of dream in me, the words resound!

"O' Camelot, O' Camelot,"
Where stands your king�your knights, so bold?
Who died for naught? �Ah, dear Shallot,
Who now will sing your song? �Behold
Your fallacy of forespent gloom!
Oh, once you stood, envy of all.
Shall "Brotherly Love" mark this tomb,
Proclaiming good within the pall?

What magic now guides Merlin's hand,
That all must fall to one's behest?
Who would allow such praised a land
This Siege's call�this Peril's test?
In wicked truth, a Holy Grail;
Sin of your eyes, Pride claim your soul!
For naught but youth could such avail.
As such, your prize underscores toll.

The May Day prophecy come true,
Oh, mark the dim and damned delight
Beyond the grim Lake of the Night,
That Modred may receive his due:
The very throne of Camelot!
Lo, Nimiane no more shall cry,
The sword within, the voices die;
And thus atone the sin begot.
All silent now lies Camelot.

II.

Oh, what should stand the penalty
To claim�ALL�true and right and just,
Before the hand of God? Who'll see
The misconstruing of your trust?
As now, your Golden Age rescinds,
(A false whisper upon the dawn);
To dreams untold upon the winds�
Those true to her, forever gone.

Their shields still line the Iv'ry hall,
Modred's alone lacking decor.
By fate or will, I slim recall
A pale stone there, nothing more.
And of the table, perfect�round,
Where each man finds equality?
Was this but fable, if profound,
To tease the minds of men like me?

Far better in the bitter fall
Would ambition rise to the deed,
If of her sin and of her call,
Fruition wasn't pent in greed.
But feast I shan't on hollow word,
Nor be provoked by shallow laws.
For this I can't, �twould be absurd
To be yoked to such fallow cause.

Where within lays my Dignity.
Oh, waive the wand of toil and grief.
Behold Death spies a lot for me,
If just beyond my misbelief.
Who loves thy brother�not thy son?
Who dares to call such deeming fair?
Lo, with no other virtues won;
The king is fallen, so the heir!

The bastard not to be undone,
Though ruin should fall beyond all scope
Of the great hall�of the great hope
For peace once sought in unison.
Oh, is it wrong to call to thought
The maiden's song, which rings no more?
By simple claim, by the wounds bore
Upon a name the nameless wrought.
All silent now lies Camelot.

III.

Lo, Time reveals the travesty
Within the recompense of light.
Though Truth repeals the majesty�
Brings forth the beckoning of Night.
As thus imbued, the vision glides
Along the brook of foreseen death.
Hope misconstrued for who presides
O'er love mistook for bated breath?

An abstract view within the hue,
Forever cherished in the thought.
I never drew on passions due;
They, too, perished in Camelot.
Upon the stake, within the flame,
A wounded heart grants no reprieve.
And in forsaking twelve, the same
By vow, that part of me won't grieve.

The candor of emotion spent,
I now have paid an endless price.
In eyes of dream, both come and went,
I've failed your fields of paradise�
�To hold a love I could not hold,
(Honor betrayed at cost of life).
�To hold supreme a King, so cold,
Yet hold demure, his loving wife.

"O' Camelot, O' Camelot,�
My heart yet cries that you are gone.
What penance sought secures this lot,
Lo, taints the skies of Avalon?
The river silent, the nymph passed,
Within the tree, the wizard caught;
With love in eye, who turned at last
To destiny, perhaps unfraught.