The Grail Knights must first finish their quest.
Not in part, not in pretense—
but wholly, to the last breath of vow.
They ride not for glory,
but for the echo of a promise
heard once in the soul’s quiet chamber—
a whisper older than desire,
more sacred than victory.
Through the thorns of doubt,
past the shadows of forsaken joy,
they journey where maps dissolve
and silence weighs like judgment.
Still—they go.
Not because they are unafraid,
but because something greater calls them
from beyond the veil of comfort.
And then—only then—
when the final truth is borne
like a scar upon the spirit,
and the cup is lifted,
empty of self, full of grace—
If then—my cup runneth over.
Come the blue shores of Bora-Bora.
Not as reward,
but as revelation.
Not for those who sought rest,
but for those who endured the fire
without losing the song.
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