• Chapter 2

    (3)

    Sleep...

    Amid the pain,
    It rests in peace,
    And dreams of times,
    Long gone to rest.

    Its soul is seared,
    With brimstone hot,
    Its mind is hurt,
    With images of death.

    Dream.

    The Dragon stirs,
    Its dreams are torn,
    Nightmares reign,
    In fields of gray.

    The Dragon stirs,
    Its body curls,
    Around itself,
    As dreams unravel.

    Awake!

    It spasms twice,
    Its jaws unclench,
    The Dragon stands,
    But it's still asleep.

    It hears a sound,
    Of beating wings,
    Its eyes open,
    And scan the sky.

    Shock!

    Another Dragon,
    Rides the winds,
    That carry smoke,
    From burning trees.

    It looks down,
    As it passes by,
    And circles 'round,
    To pass again.

    Confusion.

    Another one,
    Just like itself,
    Another Dragon,
    Is passing by.

    It feels the urge,
    To leave the crater,
    Where its memories,
    Lie burned and buried.

    Its wings unfurl,
    They open wide,
    The Dragon tries,
    To jump and fly.

    It fails once,
    It fails twice,
    It gives up,
    And so fails thrice.

    Sadness.

    It longs to fly,
    With its own kind,
    To soar on wings,
    Of Dragon kind.

    But the Dragon's,
    Wings are cracked,
    Bent and broken,
    Too frayed to fly.

    It is the fire's heat,
    That makes it cry,
    This newborn Dragon,
    Is doomed to die.

    Despair.

    (4)

    Pain

    The Dragon falls,
    Its head throbs,
    It stands up,
    And looks around.

    The flying one,
    Landed near,
    And stared,
    At the Dragon.

    Confusion

    It feels light pain,
    Within its head,
    And then a voice,
    Makes itself heard.

    The voice tells it,
    "To hold still,
    While I try,
    To mend your wounds."

    A bright light,
    Glows in the palm,
    Of the flying one,
    That landed.

    Agony!

    Pain lances,
    Through its body,
    As bones mend,
    And muscles heal.

    The Dragon spasms,
    Its muscles renewed,
    Its bones re-molded,
    Its mind reeling.

    Blackness.

    (5)

    Dream.

    The sand was cool,
    The ocean near,
    A chain of islands,
    Close at hand.

    The sky is dark,
    No stars shine forth,
    The light of dawn,
    Has not yet come.

    Softly.

    A wind awakes,
    Its thoughts askew,
    It came to play,
    With ocean blue.

    The sun peeks,
    Above the waves,
    And gives light,
    To a scene.

    Bodies lie,
    About the ground,
    The sand is stained,
    The tide is red.

    Gently.

    A song takes flight,
    Among the dead,
    And those once living,
    Live once again.

    The Dead gesture,
    Toward a stone,
    And speak in whispers,
    "The Knife is waiting".

    Silence.