via Daily Prompt: Mythical

Out of myths,
legends are born,
and somewhere,
truth resides in full.
The receding mists
and the alarming horn
depict imposed extinction
by a complacent rule.
I’ve walked the grounds,
where mists are gone.
I’ve beheld the ruins
of ancient stone.
I could hear the whispers
of her Avalon,
before the dragons
and blood and bone.
I stood in awe
of skeletons,
knowing the rubble
reflected my disposition.
At that moment,
the mossy cobble
allowed me to have
crystal vision.
You were not a knight,
shining tall,
though your armor
remained impenetrable.
Your tactics of destruction
were discreet and careful,
and you starved equality
at your table.
Ego, not justice,
drove your values.
To your own expectations,
you would not adhere.
Your wizardry—
an errand for fools,
and I was not
your Guinevere.
So even with
a heart in ruin,
this lady still has
a song to sing.
From this lake, I’ll emerge
with sword in hand.
From the mists,
I’ll be rising.