And so all the bright glories did come to an
On misted field whose mud was thick with knightly blood.
The end of Camelot, the end of us all.
Against the darkness we wearied rode,
Old and few, betrayed and alone.
Our dreams of hope of what WAS and what shall
Arthur's dream, a power in our veins! From our hearts we cry:
Oh God, why Arthur? HE was our HOPE!
He bids me throw the Sword into a secret lake.
But the sword is no mere blade, it is our dreams,
From Arthur and Merlin, honour and wisdom, justice and dreams, it is the sword of Truth and Hope!
And what will our land be like without them?
But here is the lake and I must obey,
For I returned once before to my liege, my heart broken,
I could not loose king and sword?!
But Arthur ordered it so,
And so with eyes blinded by tears, I cast our land's very heart into the water...
And so, those of heart and hope, seek for still
In the hope of seeing that prize,
THE SWORD OF TRUTH AND HOPE!