The Grail Knight laughed
and dreamed about
the holy plains of Sarras,
as he journeyed that last time
through Albion to Camelot,
to see the King,
and say farewell to those he loved.
He knows the moment of his death.
It is the gift he's earned,
which proves that he is truly free,
a choice by him,
who until now,
had been a child of destiny.
Since first his father, Lancelot,
on Pentecost led Galahad.
Since first the Round Table
he espied.
Since first upon the Siege Perilous
he sat,
where any other would have died.
Since first the ordained sword
he drew,
and was proclaimed as great.
Since first the Grail itself revealed,
he'd been a slave to fate.
His death alone
was his to choose
and now that choice was made.
He bid farewell to Percival
and Bors upon the glade.
The Pure Knight sat upon his steed
like a warrior carved of stone.
He closed his eyes
and mouthed a prayer
and dreamt of going home.
His vision was of friends long dead
upon a distant shore,
and when he finished with his prayer,
the Grail Knight was no more.
YOU ARE READING
A Mind's Eye
PoetryA collection of poems grown from myth and mind. Gods, monsters, and mortal men in a variety of poetic forms. Narratives and allegories as deeply rooted in the psyches of modern humanity, as in the civilizations that planted those seeds. Songs from d...
