Father And Son

Excalibur in his right hand
King Arthur rides into the fray.
The Saxons try to make a stand;
the magic sword though, came to slay
whomever stands in the king's path
and one by one, they fall, each shield
no match for the anointed's wrath
their crimson blood soon stains the field.
"Where is he, where!?" King Arthur screams;
as Mordred, misbegotten son,
laughs -- silver bells, cold mountain streams
playing on rocks, till they have gone
into the lake... the lake whose Lady
gave him...crash! a sudden jolt...
The son of that which God forbade,
who leads this consummate revolt,
knocks Arthur from his fabled horse
a spear head sticking from his side,
and history resumes its course.
Where's Arthur now? We still abide...