The banners fell. The torches died. The hall grew cold With passing years. Names were carved Where laughter lived. Stone remembered What men forgot. Arthur stood Above the silence, Older now Than songs had made him. The crown was heavy. The sword Was heavier still. Camelot had known Its brightest morning. Camelot had known Its deepest wound. Friends had ridden Into legend. Some returned. Some never would. The Grail had passed Beyond possession. The table stood, But not the same. Every oath Had left a shadow. Every victory Left a name. THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING. Not gone. Not ended. THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING. A promise Unforgotten. No throne Can hold forever. No kingdom Stops the night. But something Born in Camelot Still carries Into light. Beyond the lake, Beyond the mist, Where Avalon Receives the fallen, Arthur crossed From crown to legend, From the mortal To the promised. Excalibur Returned to water. The hand withdrew. The ripples closed. And those who watched The king departing Could not know If this Was end. When the land Is broken, When the old roads Disappear, When men forget What honor meant, When mercy Turns to fear, Then tell them: There was Camelot. There was a table. There was a king. THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING. The crown may fall. THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING. The dream Outlives the hall. No grave Can hold the story. No age Can end the name. For where the world Still seeks a better kingdom, Arthur Rides again. Beyond the mist. Beyond the years. Beyond the final shore. The king Who was... The king Who is... The king Who comes Once more.
