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The Cries of Camelot
Kneeling with sword raised to the sky,
As the blade glistens from,
The shadow of the moon with desire,
In respect of the god's above.
Only a spoken language,
All do understand.
Pleading, asking, begging,
To help rescue his kingdom.
The cries to Zeus with fire raging,
From the blade of Excalibur.
The prophesy is coming to light,
Camelot is falling.
Yet, the holy sword, Excalibur calls to the gods.
Arthur kneels to Arthur's stone begging,
Merlin and the gods to save Camelot.
A scorching bright light descends from the sky,
As young Arthur shields his eyes,
When he opens them standing before him,
Are the gods of 12.
Copyright ©
Shirley Hudson
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