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Ylzm Apr 30
Sword of Ishmael, robed in Assyria's mantle,
Consecrated of God, Prince of princes,
A Destroyer: the executioner of judgements.
A thorn driven deep into the heart of Jerusalem,
Tempting violent men, who pride in their strength,
as Excalibur and the Gordian Knot challenged
Arthur and Alexander.
Zywa Feb 24
After the departure of the Romans
we were our own bosses again
at war with each other

The sergeants took over
first the peripheral areas
then the middle land

Only behind the mountains
the residents still resist
longing for a king of their own

as once
his sword shone
his sword shines

immovably stuck
in the eyes of the people
dreaming of a peaceful life

a passed-on promise, for once
but unfortunately
the sword has disappeared
Excalibur, Britain AD 410

Collection “Secrets & Believers”
Green peace and trees
Orange leaves and sun
Following the blonde strands
Whisping along

Deep reds and purples
Blue mystic lakes
Diving into brunette silk
Marching forward

Friendship and tears
Trust built into love
Bonding a legend
No man could ****

Dragons and ancient tongues
Wars and proud kings
Deep into crimson red
Flowing royal death

Secrets and mysteries
The future and the past
Destiny and youth
Tied around your heart

The love of a man
The tears of a loss
Broken soul holding on
To a gold warrior
Ever so strong

Bittersweet as a broken heart
Like friends who grew a part
Keep it inside your soul forever more
Just don't let the sadness keep you
On the floor
Hi yes i love the show merlin and the legends of king arthur
Tsunami Dec 2018
Your mouth fumbles
When you call me baby
The word is foreign.
You are afraid.
A mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.
Will it slice your tongue if you say it too hard?
Or too soft?

It rolls up your throat
Pushes past your teeth with great strength
Awkward and sounding slightly out of breath
You mumble it between "hey' and "how are you"
Squished and small
Like it doesn't deserve recognition or even its own space.

You've wrapped it in fear
Hoping that if you say it nicely
Maybe somehow it will be less like a missile
Maybe this time it won't hurt.

It is exotic to that mouth of yours.
A rare commodity,
A precious rock we have to excavate
Our own romantic version of the sword in the stone
Bede Dec 2018
Arthur's kingdom, bright, so clearly shines
Among the grassy knolls of Briton
The Round-Table knights patrol the land
That Ol' Winter has clearly bitten.

With poor peasants freezing in their shacks
Their love for Arthur keeps them smitten
They don't remember the last they saw
Of the Almighty King of Briton.

The Round-Table knights now carry guns
And your tales have all been rewritten.
Oh what must we do to summon back
Our old sleep-stricken king of Briton?

The world is different now, my Lord
And in new tales may you be written.
With sword in hand, Lord please striketh down
The ****** New-Rulers of Briton.
For Avalon, for Albion
Tony Luxton Oct 2017
I don't know when or
who bought it, old worn,
battered, richly patinated,
ill-fitting our modern room.

Addressed with reverence
dur to age and tradition,
setting for many meals,
seances and squeals.

I was the noble Arthur
for a time, with a kingdom
to protect, a faith to defend
and my comrades to command.
Arthur Vaso Oct 2017
Thieves in the night
Playing with copyright
Poisoned pens
Vultures in the den
In the Palace of hypocrites
Tea served at ten
If only the winds of the sea
And the rains of the sky
In a massive hurricane
Could sweep the Palace on by
Inspired by the book "The Palace" by Paul Erdman
nigh is rain
but dance this refrain
on a day as sad as today
still made it through her exposed
as Guinevere has a barometer of faith
while an ingenue we've traveled  flat as board
in a spring this year sourly won by fascination in death
a woman as superfluous with meteorology mostly cloudy
Paul Butters Jun 2017
Before the UK Election
Those Tory Trolls slagged off
The Labour Leader
Jeremy Corbyn
Unmercifully –
Dredging up his distant past,
Turning his heroic quest for Peace in Northern Ireland
Into an act of alleged “treason”
And much more.
They painted a grim grey scene.

But like King Arthur and his gallant knights,
Corbyn unsheathed his own Excalibur:
That mighty thing called “Hope”.
He offered us all a brighter future,
Except perhaps for the greedy rich,
To sweep through the enemy ranks
Upon his horse, “Momentum”.
Once more to the breach…

And as the opinion polls swing
More and more in his favour,
Victory for Labour
Is only a matter of time.

Paul Butters
The aftermath of the UK Election.
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