Slightly different than my usual fare, I present a poem of Dragonfable
Violet wings swoop overhead
though colored bright, the sight brings dread
as turquoise form banks through the air
with jaws dripping blood from teeth which tear
Through flesh and bone of all his foes
the hidden heart his nature shows—
Destroying Truth, his nature, his name
his violet wings his claim to fame,
for though his flight be far and high
all that meets his eyes shall die
For loss of her, most dear to him
his joyous emerald eyes grow dim.
Dragon and Dragonlord, never apart
partners of mind and soul and heart
Until one fell that fateful day
when a lucky arrow that hero did slay
and the dragon remained, alone and in pain
maddened with rage— her loss and his shame.
Dragon of destruction, dragon of creation
in them was prophesied the world’s salvation
but the dark took the savior, who fell to his brother
and it seemed that the prophesy no one would suffer
As their foes fell swift to talon and steel
Creature of darkness, flew all wounds to heal
But the hero is fallen, the dragon alone
And in fury shall turn all the world to bone
Savage shame where once was glory
Blood and ruin end the story
Truth-which-rends, destroys, lays waste
and never more but blood shall taste
The blood of those who looked to him
for life and shelter, eyes now grim
from darkened gaze upon the sea
that grows into infinity.
Ah, hear him thunder through the sky!
For loss of her the earth shall die!
The seas of blood and crystal hate
yet burn beneath the turquoise plate
Of armor that no blade can pierce
for love is slain, so free and fierce—
The dragon kills to end his pain
to drown out yet that well-loved name
as if each life beneath his claws,
that falls to fang and crystal jaws
might be his own, release at last
From chains of life that hold him fast
He lives enduring, doubly damned
in this torture we call life.
Damned to madness never ending
With a solace found in strife.
For his nature, long forgotten
Damned to linger and abide
Till, in mourning beyond measure
Called the shadows to his side.
So the Darkness swiftly gathered
To his weakness and despair
Gave him eyes of bloody mourning
As fell triumph wracked the air.
Crooning songs of honeyed hatred
At a puppet sweetly stringed
Made a monster of its mocking –
And it named him Chaos-Winged
What price, salvation for the earth?
what price, the loss of joy and mirth?
For well they know the shadow’s dread
and none are safe until he’s dead
but what is dead can never die
and ever more he soars the sky
The rage can never be denied
the hate will not be satisfied
And by that blast of fiery breath
all the world will meet its death
Hear his wingbeats overhead!
See him leave a trail of dead!
War waged for a hundred years,
Uncaring of unnumbered tears.
Lands are burned and seas were boiled
And all the while his conscience roiled,
In filling this burning, hellish lake,
Of blood and slaughter, “For her sake.”
His shadow falls across the land—
and they shall meet him sword in hand
as yet a thousand times before,
and yet again a thousand more
But though it open time again,
never shall he pass the door
of death’s dark gate, find peace at last
For long his fate, the die is cast.
The shadow of his wings draws near
and now they know nothing but fear.
What worth was there he swift forgot
What worth the wonders that he hid?
The brilliance of an untried soul
A brief, bright spark. The crusted lid
Of avarice and long neglect
Bore down upon him. Fickle, wan
The shadow's echo of a dream
to wake to ruin, rage unchecked.
Onward he sweeps, on wings of dread-
And all that lives now lies long dead
But were it better yet this way?
For still in dreams he hears her say
“Veritas, beloved one, dragon who is like my son
I blame you not for what you’ve done
I doubt I’m capable of that
hush now, my little acrobat.”
And to reach Death, and grief assuage
By seeing her among the shades
of all who died in his great rage
Then Dragon Dread could not be free
of those whose blood now forms the sea
And fragile dream would fade at last,
and dragon into ruin cast—
Veritas, destroying truth!
Ah, the longed for days of youth.
Emerald stained with blood and hate
Dragon drowned in grasp of fate
Blood on jaws and talons vast
As ever on time rushes past
Singing songs of her demise
dragon weeping in the skies
flames that burn the secret way,
grief that echoes night and day—
Still the spirit voice does speak
words of silence, faded, weak:
Though your life may never end
even still, you are my friend.