Summary: A poem describing a night in Camelot in the aftermath of 2x13. I dunno guys, it's pretty weird.
Snow fell upon dear Camelot
and swiftly shucked the leaves
'pon cobblestone and chimney top
and loaded down the eaves.
From out her hut peers Guinevere
Accustomed so to waiting nice
So much to fear, this waning year-
Right proper there'd be ice.
Stray dogs awhimper, pups ashiver
Up the muddied streets of town
To where, its very bones aquiver,
Castle's rent and all torn down.
And how the moon is globular and blue!
It shows the frozen courtyard's face.
Where sorsry's wild and infiltrates,
O what's a fearful king to do?
With ward astray and heart in two,
Where truths are false, and lies are true,
A loss of many mocks the few-
Yes, what's a fearful king to do?
Wend through the halls, be fleet this knight,
Another soul is stirring now
He is hard and made of light
A frown - or grace - upon his brow.
Kept innocent, kept clean and pure,
Those who guard him will it so,
That his rule be just and sure,
It's not the time. It's best to go.
My goodness, how the bread smells great!
Twould make the servants salivate,
If any were awake this late...
Now down the stairs and steps abate, and -
Lo! To the castle's ratty middle!
Here works Gaius! Fiddle diddle,
With his potions in their pots,
Keeper of the secret lots.
But silent past him, cross the door,
To the restive, gangling form of Merlz.
In hopes of prince and quick'ning days
A fragile destiny unfurls.
No longer comes a dragon's croon
From down the castle basement's keep.
Now that it's gone, Kilgara's song,
Who's to sing the lad to sleep?