Birth of a King

This dragon, a king was he
in all but name
Fought against his Lord
so he could rightly reign

Helped by a Druid
one so feared by all
Who came one battle night
to answer the Duke’s call

‘Foretold is this birth,’ says he
as the battle raged
Smiling down at the little boy
Artor to be his name

Bear it means in his tongue
fitting it will be
For this boy shall rule
and set Prydein free

So the boy grows
fifteen summers pass
Then destiny one day calls
as does the beating of his heart

For in the midst of strife
tearing the country apart
Hope lies in a boy and his life
from that day shall it start

Then he sees it, gleaming in the sun
and mist, shining bright and ethereal
It’s calling does he hear, a gentle song it hums
reaching into his soul, this does he feel

The sword beckons him forwards
whispering in his head
Not understanding the words
but to it he is led

Before it now he is
in awe of the sword in the stone
Hand around the hilt to twist
and pull from its home

All hail the King! they exclaim
A King has been found
And so spreads Artor’s fame
forever to the land, the people now he’s bound