The Sword (the beginning)

The blade glistened in the sunless light, the boy, sheltering from the rain Sees them try with all their might, to pull it free, but all in vain One by one they all went to try, one by one they all did fail Each with hope, ends with a sigh, each seeing an end to their fairytale And the old man sees the boy, a smile breaks his hardened face He lifts his staff and points the way, the boy's heart begins to race The crowd points and laughs with jest, the boy walks forward, his eyes on the prize And he grips the hilt, ready for the test, an upward thrust, skyward the blade did rise A whimper spreads through the crowd, before them the boy holds high the sword The old man bows and exclaims out loud, 'Hail King Arthur, our soverign, our lord'