Sir Lancelot
An arm of steel, the noble lance of the king,
Your badge of office and truth reckoning,
To your right he sat, raven haired to bring,
By his unplanned fault, God’s call, beckoning.
Once his to claim, the Siege Perilous,
Destined to lead him into loves embrace,
The lady, his Queen, would set sword to rust.
Given in the end, with dithering haste,
Loyalty to crown, to heart, and to self,
Strong, just and proud, by the Grail slighted.
Before fate and destiny, the man knelt,
Champion of hearts, by failure blighted,
Lord of the Lake, the knight Sir Lancelot,
Entwined in legend, the gem of Camelot!
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