Long Live the King

One night quite right for Wart of knight on days surpassed by one fortnight,
The Wart, the ward of winter’s fight would wither and wander quite right this night.
Only one day when Wart wouldn’t stay and linger, he got lost and wounded on his finger.
And wouldn’t have a savior nor a bringer ‘till Pellinore, king of whoo-pa-dinger.
Not much help, but in the end in days like that you need a true friend.
Insanity is a potential trend for king and ward, for now a blend.

Now, shall we skip ahead a spell to the old man fetching from a well?
When Merlyn takes him to not be fell, he saves the Wart from a fiery Hell.
The gentleman, without suspicion, ranks Wart up to the “Friend” position,
And sees the little boy’s ambition. Oh, did I mention?  Merlyn’s a magician.
As our hero sees the parchments and pages and items that would only belong to the mages,
He suddenly stops, and he ponders and gazes, and he thinks that it couldn’t be crafted for ages.

And again, we are ahead a verse, to spare Merlyn the teacher, dad and nurse.
By now, the boy’s troubles have reversed but as well as his attention, has dispersed.
The ward and the squire Kay had felt somewhat of dismay
So they decided they should play and shoot this and that of way.
They always missed and never made and so, their temper started to fade,
As Kay and Wart discovered a glade in which their best arrow hit a crow's beak (like a blade).

Once more, the Wart is in distress, and not to mention, Kay's a mess.
They squealed and squirmed and did their best but in a cage they were all but in arrest.
A black goat appeared with long legs and wooly beard.
Wart attached a note while he reared and into the night, the goat had speared.
Long story short, Merlyn was at the door with a tome and a challenge and genius galore,
As he challenged the captor, and ripped her to gore, the blackbird shouted, "Nevermore!"

Now, Kay's dubbing is in sight as the proper son of Ector, right,
But Wart is not allowed to fight, because his dad isn't a knight.
"However," says the mage, "You'll no longer be a page,
For now, you are Kay's squire of age and should not see past your luck, to rage.
Alas, though your journey is still lengthly, you could decide for it to happen less painfully"
And Wart, viewing the words quite thankfully, regards the wizard's wisdom, gratefully.

A few years hence, after duel, tilt and fence,
We find our party not making sense of the half-dragon, half-hens.
Yes it's wyverns and verses Kay and Wart, with Merlyn flanking, prepared to thwart
And griffins in the court, all attacking Ector's fort.
The fight is not without a cost with Kay all throttled, beat and tossed,
And nearly dead after being bossed but on the bright side, the fight was not lost.

There seems to be a rumor to say and sing about a particular, aesthetic thing
For the one who pulls this sword with a shing would rightfully become Camelot's king.
Pellinore speaks of a sword in a stone in an anvil outside of a church, all alone
And the one to lift this sword from its home would have all kin rights to the throne.
So while Kay in in midst of a chival tourney, he sends his squire on a simple journey
To fetch his sword from under the birch tree and atop the cart gurney.

So on the Wart's way for a regular sword, he stops and loiters, already bored.
He believes that the cart is a weapons hoard. It was then he saw the lored sword for the lord.
He wanted this a lot even though it was quite a plot,
The Wart knew Merlyn would always give him a shot to be the king of Camelot.
Arthur, the Wart felt like a cavalier as people started to sing,
He pulled the sword Excalibur while they shouted, "Long Live the King!'