Arthur met a confounding god today.
A maze of a god,
with Arthur in the middle.

A god not hemmed in by history,
not bound within Arthur's worn, white bible;
beyond understanding, as promised.

Arthur met a god outside
his tarnished creed,
a god too slippery for certainty.
An untidy, script-ripping god.
A god who hovered beyond
the borders.

Not a guiding light, but a blinding night.
And blind, Arthur recognised little through his tears,
as his father slipped away,
as promised.