An Ode to the Dragon

An Ode to the Dragon A slow yet restless awakening brings his peaceful gaze to its dawn. A quiet time for contemplation and a perfect time for reformation, sings the ever-constant passing of Time. Past has come, and Future is present Then; to heal wounded memories Then; to slowly build new bridges Now; to cross charted yet forgotten seas and revel in a free and golden sun. He breathes in. He breathes out. Deep, assured, and convicted the beast knows his purpose, knows his path, kindling an ever-hungry hearth. A warm ember grows, fed on passion, fed on courage – almost perverse in his lack of patience – the winged serpent reaches for the heavens. Clutching to determination, he releases the little pin holding back the fury of flight. He breathes in. He breathes out. And with that breathe releases a thousand Spartan flames. A gail of fire, fire that raised civilisations, welded myth to the delicate fabric of time, and hailed the Dragon's reign.