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There Were Dragons

There was a time long ago,

Long before the strange creatures of today,

Before the slippery rodents that glared with crimson eyes,

Waiting to tear into lumps of fresh rotten flesh,

Before the hairy ape-like brutes that roar their words,

Violently smashing themselves to those who try to fight back,

Before the malicious innocent who play with others,

A cat with a mouse who has no intent to eat,

Before them all

There were dragons.

Oh how I love the dragons.

Their stories flow like rivers from mouths,

Rise like forests from books.

These stories of great beasts,

Neither of heaven or earth or hell,

Ruling their land stronger than kings and wiser still,

Lusting over gold that shines more than the sun

And gems that glitter brighter than the stars.

Growing rich in their strength and power.

I wish I could have seen them,

The giants larger than hills,

Their teeth like steely swords to fight for themselves

Their scales like gem encrusted shields,

Deflecting the blows of those who call them monsters.

Their breath like blue fire,

Spitting flames at those who would tear them down.

They are gone.

Even with their great power and wisdom and majesty,

They could not fight forever

Because even more powerful than them are stories.

Stories that paint over their glistening scales,

Showing monsters and animals,

Evil beings from the darkest reaches they had never seen,

Beasts that had no option but to die.

And stories spread like locust,

Splashing on the dragons that decided to fight back,

Forcing the rest to run and hide till nothing was left,

Except for a small lizard or snake.

Even the mightiest of dragons fell before the powerful beast that called itself story,

And they all slipped away.

The stories that had wiped them out is all that is left of them,

Giving only a small glimpse of what used to be Dragons.

And yet…

I caught a glimpse the other day,

A vision just outside my sight,

Of those bright scales and white teeth,

Of that blue fire and flashing eyes.

But when I turned,

Only an old woman remained,

Small and frail with silver hair,

Shaking and weak,

Easily blown over by a strong wind.

Perhaps it was only a trick of the light.

She stared back and her eyes flashed,

Fierce and strong in an instant.

I saw it then, the blue fire within.

She smiled and continued on her way.

I smiled and continued on my way.

There was nothing left for me to do.

What a thing to learn,

That there are dragons.

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Poetry

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