Lancelot/Introduction
Oh Those Silly Unicorns
It is a time of wonder when legends walk the earth once more. It is sad that the world needs such legends again. Myth and mystery has always surrounded the stories of King Arthur, Guinevere and Arthur's best knight, Lancelot. The dark ages weren't the dark ages because it was a happy fun time, it was an age of lost knowledge, of death and despair. It was a time when legends needed to be there to give the people hope and for tails to thrill the children and carry their thoughts away form disease and hunger.
No tale of tragedy has been gone over and rearranged into all sorts of fanciful tales as that of Camelot. The stories of its great knights, how it was formed, how it ended and how their quests continued onward looking to restore it once more. Many things were lost, many stories spun anew into the things that never happened or went to far, though a simple kiss was far enough to end Camelot. A kingdom that was a shining beacon that could have stopped the dark ages form ever happening after the fall of the Roman empire.
I pass on time and do abide,
Waves of myths and history's tide,
Upon the shore of a future ride,
One kiss, left dead, a kingly bride.
Guinevere, so speaks the breeze,
The wind it bows in ancient trees,
Over and over, seasons passed on knees,
The years in penance they fell like leaves.
Once more my time, her savior graced,
From bond of power sweetly embraced,
Moonhaven's hope, so sweetly placed,
The life of the seventh interlaced.
(To Be Continued)
"A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling through the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves.
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight forever kneeled,
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott."
~ Tennyson
LANCELOT
You look frightened. There's a large number of lonely men out there.
GUINEVERE
Don't worry, I won't let them rape you."
~ King Arthur (2004 Film)
Arthur had jammed himself up against the door to the outside cubicle, trying to hold it closed, but it was ill fitting. Tiny furry little hands were squeezing themselves through the cracks, their fingers were ink-stained; tiny voice chattered insanely.
Arthur looked up. "Ford!" he said, "there's an infinite number of monkeys outside who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've worked out."
~ Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
