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I am Mordred Poem
I am Mordred
I love King Arthur
And yet, I hate him as well.
He is all that a king should be, an eagle among men, so regal and good.
But he tried to kill me as a baby and will not call me “son”.
With his healing powers, he rescued Gull from the shame of being barren.
He is so kind yet he will not claim me as his own.
King Arthur singled me out for special favor and granted me a boon, though I had done nothing
Though through all his generosity, he would not gift me with the words “my son”
He is noble. He does all he can to protect his kingdom.
He cannot call me son, for if he did the land would blacken and the sky would cry blood.
He is a man any daydreaming boy would choose for a father.
But my fate will not allow him to declare me his heir.
So I lay here,
Crushed and battered,
Trying unsuccessfully to fight my fate
Waiting for the unmentionable
Wishing for the unreasonable
Hoping for the impossible.
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