From worn wharf into dreary keep
A line of knights and dames weep
Through rain and hail, silent in grief
Past the cold bones where the dead sleep
In the heart of Camelot
Where only little elves can see
The precession on bended knee
Grieve the Lady, at rest and free
The Lady of Shalott
Embalmed, entombed in the grey stone
Many mourn a face they’d not known
“Away” they said, “her soul had flown,
When she came to our wharf alone,
To rest with the dead of Camelot”
Lancelot himself offers prayer
To this cold unknown lady fair
A thing most unseen and most rare
Especially for this Lady of Schalott
When all rites and prayers had ended
When at last all had lamented
In full. A nun still attended,
To see natures laws suspended
’Twas Morrigan, Witch of Camelot
Here to see the sudden uproar
Surprised to see ’twas nothing more
Than a corpse that had washed on shore;
The Lady of Shalott
She observed the plain stone coffin
Lifting the lid she dropped in
A long glance at the corpse, scoffin(g)
At the still face almost taunting
“The great occurrence of Camelot”
As the common folk had named her
’Naught but a deceased stranger,
And comely looking granger
This Lady of Shalott’,
Thought the witch, with indignation
Seeing how this wench stilled the nation,
with naught but her expiration,
Struck with malign inspiration
The witch planned the fall of Camelot.
She found a rat, and slit its veins
Upon the ladies fair remains
And placed on her a curse of Cain
Thus was the resurrection of The Lady of Shalott.
Two days passed with little stir
And on the third did it occur
That out of the dreary graves cloister
In full health and beauty, ’twas her
The Lazarus of Camelot.
None could believe this heresy
What dark spell or curse let this be?
Out came brave King Arthur to see,
The Born Again Lady of Shalott
She was brought before the king’s court
Surrounded by the king’s escort
She was oddly in great disport
An almost carefree childlike sort
Brought before the Court of Camelot.
None knew what to do with this girl.
No answer came from any Earl
And the court was still in a whirl
Over this Christ of Shalott.
Was there a foul magic to blame?
Was her title even her name?
They needed to make this sane,
And out of the uproar, he came
The Chaplain of Camelot.
In his holy robes did he stand
Before the court, noble and grand
And beheld her face in his hand
The Whispered Witch of Shalott
A smile crept in on the Chaplain
And bolts of lightning had cracked in
The sky. The girl froze as laughing
Could be heard, lowly crackling
From the Chaplain of Camelot
Til a pallid green flame had came
And swallowed the priest in hot rain
Til not but madness remained
’Twas Morrigan the Master of the Lady of Shalott
All the brave knights drew their honed swords
The witch was too quick in her words
And in madness magic holds
The Lady’s eyes burned like dark coals
Igniting the fall of Camelot.
The fire burned away her skin
Now with scales likened to dragons kin
Formed, and she grew as great as sin
The Dragon of Shalott
Dragon fire had burned the king
Away with his throne, and bards sing
Of the doom Morrigan did bring
Upon the pyre of deaths sting
That brought about the death of Camelot.
And instead of a king all now
Hail the sorcerer queen and bow
Before her fell beast, and know
That she was once the Lady of Shalott.
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