Not a creature was stirring
As the man stepped within
His uncertain eyes
Glanced around

With faces in every tree
And fog eternally
A man’s greatest fears
All abound

But the quest was too dear
For a moment of fear
Each man marking the
Waning clock

Wace’s spawn was precarious
But its heart had the cure
The light of Myrrdin
Glowing bright

So with step after step
Our hero trudged on
A mark of the courage
Of Tyr



Till at last in the night
Was a glade blazing bright
At the center a light
Of a god

Myrrdin’s star, so scintillant
Blazing as the sun
That which could save
His son’s poor heart

With trepidation he grasped
At the gift of Asclepius
His one hope left
On this Earth

But an old, withered fey
Seized it away
That glow of life
Had vanished

With a tear in his eye
Our hero gave chase
Running after his son’s
Very life



At long last he reached
The brink of defeat
But in that moment
The spirit returned

The man’s persistence and love
Had proved his worth
The gods above
Had chosen

But a choice loomed near
As explained by the sprite
The man’s task was not
Yet finished

For the gift was a curse
Any mortal to hold it
Would burn up to ashes
In time

Without an ounce of regret
The father exclaimed yes
Trading his life
For his son’s



He hurried on back
With the light in his hands
Determined to
Set things right

At the bedside he paused
Determined to take
One last look at the life
He was saving

His sweet, innocent boy
Eyes closed tight
Struggling to just
Hold on

To that slippery slope
Cast deep within
The chasm of
Dante’s description

Like an angel of love
And the hope of the dove
Our hero had finished
His quest



He set the glow in
The child’s dry mouth
A light in the cavern
Of darkness

But with that great gift
The man felt himself drift
Into the hallowed halls
Of oblivion

-

Arthur opened his eyes
The pain washed away
Again he could breathe and live

But his joy caught abrupt
When he saw his proud father
Withering away at his side

One phrase passed between them
A life contained within
“I love you, my darling son”



So Arthur held dear
To his father’s crumbling build
And our hero felt the radiance
Within his son as he died