Dragondream Poem by Poet Dragon

Here the chains lie, sleeping only
clinking gently on the ancient stonework
steadily beating away, tink, tink, tink
With each massive breath and flutter of scales

Sleeping like a baby, smiling toothily
Dreaming of happiness, of constant love
Of a place away from the shackles
Comfortable in the fantasies of assumption

Hear her talk of love like it is broken?
As if all is uniform, all gray men the same
Speaking despair, letting the doubts coil like smoke
Calling to the beast to awaken, rise up and strike!

Like a prod, a painful, aching hurt
Chains snap taut, groaning, bolts fly free
Fire builds, muscles stretch, jaws agape
Roaring disconsolately he yearns for freedom to fly

His nails dig channels in the stones,
air whooshes into the chamber, down his throat,
the room becomes a furnace, burning stones as sacrifices
but when it cools, the peace is deceitful

Hear her say you're her favorite in the world
When you can only see the hurt there, what it needs
battling against your body and what it wants
Flailing questions, who do you serve, how do you serve?

Again the chains snap, and a shackle comes free
and the beast opens its eyes from the reality dream
The door opens, and a figure enters, cloaked in shadows
'Death comes soon, ' it says. 'Await it with dignity.'

Walks to the thrashing head, ignoring the flying chain
takes the straining head in hand, and strokes his jaw
warms its black hands in the terrible fire
The figure is calmly pushing back the passion

'Let it go, this world is not ready, ' says its dead voice.
'No passion willing or wanting, except acceptance.
'This place is the killing ground for dreams.
'Keep safely in your fantasies, dear dreaded second half.'

It takes the chain and bolts it back in place
and from shaded folds withdraws a book of poetry
One moment more, as it opens to a blank page,
and presents the book and a pen to the raging beast

'As I have placed your freedom in these chains,
'place your passion in the pages, and lock it up tightly
'These words might stem the tide just long enough,
'to extricate yourself from the possibility of pain.'

The figure turns and walks to the open door, says,
'When my courage is enough to unlock your prison
'Or when they finally find a way to kill me,
'I leave this body to you. Wake up, then, and fly.'

Still straining, the dragon tilts his head down
and feels the tears of tyranny run like an open wound
Gasping for grand, glorious release, he settles
Picks up the pen and the book, and starts to write.