I am Excalibur…and this is my dream. For many months now I have been kissed by the twilight and caressed by the waking dawn and I miss the embrace of stone and water and grow weary in the hand of a true man.
I watch you now, oh mighty Arthur, from my bed on your great, round table. My eyes see your smile and the promise in your gestures for more bloodshed, more death. Gawain to your left and Lancelot to your right, I pity you. You may dream, king, but not my dream.

I have sung for you. You throw your blonde hair out of your eyes and you watch me, almost eager. Your rough hand grips my red, leather hilt with the strength only I have given you. Then you kiss my blade and I shine for you.

My dream cannot be fulfilled by any man, creature or god. My dream is immortal. And my dream is for uselessness. If I was not needed…the world would be good indeed.

Oh Arthur, the love between us is so strong. We have saved one another many times. We are never apart.

Maybe we can rebuild destinies…