Weary and confused, cast out of the gate
I caught of it the first view
Blurred through the mists, an immense silhouette
Of palaces, temples and domes
White walls shining
Hit by the light of the moon
Hung on high rocks
As built by the maker himself
Place of great mystery
Towers and high walls, carved on the rocks
As bright as the light of the sun
I was approaching, I was at the gates
At the gates of the great Avalon
The boat silently moved its way to the isle
As if hovering over the lake
I sensed a power, a surge through my skin
A shiver ran through my spine
Blood red writings
Adorning the buildings of stone
Telling stories
Of glory and old victories
And the mists faded away
Towers and high walls, carved on the rocks
As bright as the light of the sun
I was approaching, I was at the gates
At the gates of the great Avalon