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Writer's pictureSJ Bernstein

Sword and Anvil

A moment, just a single breath

A choice to make of life or death

Of fate confirmed or fate denied

The Mage’s voice, the dead king’s lies


The Sword, a single gleaming point

To mark the way un to the thrown

The blade which stands in anvil and in stone

The boy who must face that chair alone


And go forth a leader in the light?

Or vanish into his personal twilight?

To live his life his cares own

Will he turn? Release the hilt? Surrender the thrown?


Or does he take the high kings way?

The afternoon to England’s day

His light to flicker and to set

At Camlann to pay his final debt?


The sword which cleaves this fate in two

Reflects a morning bright and new

And in that glow the choice is made

The boy’s hand grasps the gleaming blade.


The Saxons overflow the bay

Killing all upon their way

The knights ride despite into the fight

But treason hounds them left and right

The isle falls into the night

As Mordred blots out the dragon’s light


In the glitter of the blade

This fate is forged

This future made


Merlin’s sealed beneath the stone

And Arthur faces the night alone.

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