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The Fisher King

written by: Nelson Brooks



Take the left fork into the hills,
Watch for turrets hidden from sight,
You will find a place to rest,
Don't pass by Percival,
I will be along later,
Excuse me if I don't stand,
Like Xavier, I carry an injury of fate,
Pierced by the passion which filled me.

And by and by, he comes to a fort,
Strangely grand upon a lost road,
Courtiers hurry by, and make good,
Upon a wasteland barren.

Come dine with me fine traveler,
In my halls of lavish fare,
Come see the rituals practiced
As we eat and talk and share,
But the traveler was silenced
High borne manners held him fast
He never got to ask the question
As the Grail was passed.

The wounded king remained that way,
Our hero takes his leave,
Yet later it's revealed to him,
The truth of why his heart should grieve
For the poor king who fishes
Because he can no longer ride,
Entrapped by the curse of the Grail,
The wounds that never heal.

Who serves the Grail? If only
He had asked the questions held
Upon the tip of his tongue,
Ending the curse upon the king.

His quest to return,
To place foot before foot
Until at last, the lake comes into view,
The good fisherman set free,
The Salmon of wisdom is
Caught upon the hook of fate,
Baited with good intentions,
And still the Grail exacts a price.

Nelson Brooks

Nelson Brooks

In June 2016 I published my first Novel, Rules for a born again bachelor about re-entering the data scene after a divorce. A second novel is completed and is seeking an agent but this time it's murder. The third novel is being edited and this one is a bank robbery. But the novels are only the latest in a long line of creative expression from over 20 years of poetry and more recently articles for the Analogies project and a blog on horse racing. Nelson by day works in London and commutes from Sussex, the journey between is when he finds some of his most productive writing time.
Nelson Brooks

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