2016Bluestone

The Sins of the Father Stephen Hoyle Alexander. Like Philip you drank, Made your rounds with brats. Not a noble trait for a king. The bottle caused the fever Which took your life so young. Hector. Too noble like your father Priam; The hard body of a warrior, but The soft heart of a loving father. You accepted death like a sage, Leaving widowed wife and orphaned son. Arthur. Like the Pendragon, you fell to lust; Loved Morgause, your own half-sister; Spawned Mordred, a bastard like you, Only you wouldn’t share his sire’s love; He’d turn dark just to see you die. My own father, What of yours am I to repeat? What fatal flaw, what mortal weakness Is to bring me down so low As these men, whose fame and glory I will never match?

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