Avalon Never Died

They say the magic died with Arthur. Then who is singing through the mist? The sword went home; the king went west. White apple flowers veiled his rest. The towers fell; the fields lay bare. But something older waited there. We were the few the songs passed by, Who would not let the old ways die. We had no throne, no sword to claim, Just hands to shield a trembling flame. Avalon never died. We kept the flame on the other side. Through blood and iron, smoke and stone, We kept a world no king could own. Avalon, we are still here, Beyond your maps, beyond your fear. When wonder has no need to hide, We'll draw the mist aside. While abbey bells called out the hours, We kept our prayers in roots and flowers. Beneath a healer's humble hood, A druid kept the sacred wood. We spoke the old gods' names at night; Dead branches bloomed by candlelight. When one voice failed, another grew; The hands grew old. The oath stayed new. While painters set the skies in gold, New presses spread the tales of old. We hid our signs in ink and rhyme, And passed unseen through brighter times. They charted coasts and crossed the foam; No map could show our hidden home. They called our island make-believe. We let them laugh. We did not leave. Avalon never died. We kept the flame on the other side. Through blood and iron, smoke and stone, We kept a world no king could own. Avalon, we are still here, Beyond your maps, beyond your fear. When wonder has no need to hide, We'll draw the mist aside. Then iron roads cut through the grain; The mills beat louder than the rain. We worked their floors with ash-stained hands, And dreamed of green, unbroken lands. One keeper fell where poppies grew; His daughter learned the songs he knew. Beneath the thunder of the guns, The old words passed from tongue to tongue. Now towers glitter through the rain, And keepers take the morning train. A nurse who hums beside your bed, A gardener tending what seemed dead. Behind the glare of glass and chrome, We still can find the old way home. At dusk, we cross the hidden lake. The Lady smiles. The woods awake. I am the Lady of the Lake. I kept the blade for mercy's sake. Not for the hands that grasp a throne, But those who love what they can't own. When power learns to guard, not reign, The mist will open once again. Avalon never died. We kept the flame on the other side. Through blood and iron, smoke and stone, We kept a world no king could own. Avalon, we are still here, Beyond your maps, beyond your fear. When wonder has no need to hide, We'll draw the mist aside. Until that dawn, through rain and years, We keep the fire. We are still here. We did not vanish. You forgot the way. Listen...