Lost in Camelot

Amidst the fog most warriors would not cross
Lies a treasure no one dared to remember
Wrapped in gold, sitting on heaven's jaws
The bravest knight does not falter surrender

A cavalry vanquished, no one seems to remain
Other than the peon who gives no worthy name
Scavenging the wasteland, he gives nothing but shame
Not a peasant, not a priest would mind to know no fame

Drenched in the sun, he covets a cold embrace
He finds a forest most tales would not grace
A feeling of blissful quenching, most undeserved
As he finds more than what mere villagers revered

Embraced, not by the chills of solitude
But by a lady no human deserved to feel
This peon would die a sweet death would
But his love will be a legend no one could seal