The Tale of Myrddin Wyllt

A poem about one of the historical Merlins.

The Tale of Myrddin Wyllt

In an ancient grove dense with trees
The leaves
Create a grand canopy that blackens the sun
The one
Myrddin Wyllt sits alone by a stream
A thin beam
Of light breaks through the outstretched net
The unkempt
Filthy mane of Myrddin, matted and full of louse
A mouse
Quietly scurries across a log
The white smoky fog
Seemed to create an otherworldly feel
Unreal
Like the dream of a dragon
Come to take us all away

He dreams of another time and place
The human race
Jaded more than he could ever be
Myrddin hates his dreams

They are what have brought him here
And filled his heart so full of fear

He caused the death of his lord and sire
And did not attend the funeral pyre

Thought it best to leave the world for good
So now he sits alone
Within these ancient woods