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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2239155
The soul of the universe
Dawn hides beneath the long shadow of the moon.
Waiting for her time to rise above the still land;
To bathe the sky, the sea, the earth
With the light of eternity.
While the dragon remains undisturbed
Sleeping beneath our feet,
Cocooned safely within the molten core

Deep in the core of the earth, it's belly rumbles.
Shaking the earth with each painful reminder.
The time is upon us
The dragon's belly must be fed.

The monster within is ready to rise up.
Awake and strong; proud to rise from the flames and the heat
Rising up from its spot near the hearth where it has laid.
Curled in position like a sleeping cat - so innocent
Hiding its deadly potential as it rises slowly

No one truly understands the power of the beast inside
The silent assassin
Poised now to strike back at the world
With a raging fire from deep within.

A fire that burns intensely hot and fierce
It swirls up into a hot ball, so tightly wound up
It turns bright white, then explodes into a glorious sea of colors
A rainbow; a cornucopia of emotions and words.

Thoughts spew out from the dragon's head.
They mix with the blast erupting from the dragon's mouth.
A blaze of smoke and fire
Black death covers the land
And it all burns away, slowly.

The dragon rages, standing tall and proud now
Its bones still creaking ever so slightly from its long slumber
Its muscles, engorged with blood
His power pumping out of his heart, through his veins.
Outstretched limbs and webbed fingers shine with a red glow,
Absorbed from the aura of the fire

It looks across the barren landscape and sees eternity
Quiet
Still
Calm.
He has destroyed the visible to unleash the invisible.

She has disappeared - no more stories.
Time has ceased to exist.
There is no more life and there is no more death.
Just peace and stillness.
A strange beauty in the aftermath of this despairing darkness.

This was the only way to bring light back to the land
Through death.
The reaper draws near
But the dragon is not afraid.

He knows his time will come
But he is not afraid.
He will not run.
He will stare death in the face and welcome it.

When his time comes, he knows it will be okay
Because he is a shadow.
His true self stays pure, preserved.
It cannot be touched.
He is more beautiful in death than in life.

He stays silent.
He stares death in the eye.
The reaper lowers his scythe slowly,
His hood falls down across his empty face.
He turns to the side and walks away
Without touching the ground, he fades into the distance.

The dragon, exhausted from the experience
Slowly curls back up in front of the hearth,
The fire is almost out, save a single flame
That remains.
Unextinguished,
Neatly poised among the ashes that remain.
Waiting to be reborn from the mouth of the dragon,
In time.
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