The Book of the Death of Arthur
Spicer on Merlin
The blackness remains. It remains even after the rich fisherman
has done what he can do to protect home and mother. It is
there like the sun.
Not lost battles or even defeated people
But blackness alive with itself
At the sides of our fires.
At home with us
And a monstrous anti-grail none of those knights could have met
As real as tomorrow.
Not the threat of death. They could have conquered that. Not
even bad magic.
It is a simple hole running from one thing to another. No kingdom
will be saved.
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