Even to the death, as though ye were my blood, In all your quarrels will I be your knight.

I never felt that Lancelot and Guinevere were romantic. They always disgusted me, betraying vague, dear, idealistic old Arthur with their willfulness. I always identified with little Elaine; who is, according to some stories, Lancelot's actual wife, whom he met under typical 'damsel in distress' circumstances, and who would have given 'Arthur's favourite knight' a happy ending if he weren't such a fool... "And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true". She died, a proper romantic death - in many versions after becoming the mother of the best knight of all, Sir Galahad. But I do love Tennyson's 'Idyll of Elaine'. Even though she seems such a spoilt teenager one must forgive her for her intensity - after all, she's the eventual martyr for love, not stuffy old Guinivere who goes off to die in a convent, after causing the ruin of her husband's entire kingdom and life. I <3>
They started out beneath the knowledge tree.
Then they chopped it down to make white picket fences,
And, marching along the railroad tracks,
They smile real wide for the camera lenses.
They made it past the enemy lines
Just to become enslaved in the assembly lines.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjrbVG95gLY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGTDRztaCCw

It's hard for one to see life, stretching out before oneself, unpunctuated by predictable events, unchanged by sweeping time... watching dreams like dead rose petals succumb to the wind.