(An original poetry works by the Manager of this.....unique site)
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The Paper Dragon
Torches burning left and right,
smell of Pinon through the night.
Dragon guards the crystal ball
that holds the dreams of one and all.
Dare to step into the lair
and thee will find it waiting there,
prepared to rip thy flesh from bone
and leave thee in a heap....alone.
What hope exists to gaze into
the glass that keeps your soul from you?
The soul that is thy destiny?
The soul that is the heart of thee!
With ease you might just turn away
to plunder through another day.
To let the fear consume thy self
and keep your life upon the shelf.
So few will choose the other way.
Not to run....but turn and stay.
To walk with head held high and free
towards open-ended destiny.
Throughout your life you've felt the drain
and now your "self" you wish to claim.
"You'll never win!" the voices shout.
But you step forth...your fate in doubt.
The crowd moves back to let you through,
while secretly they want it too.
They heave a sigh, a heavy groan
but stay within their comfort zone.
You stride ahead alone towards doom,
when just beyond, you see a room.
No movement sensed, no sounds of yet,
but still you feel a drip of sweat.
Creeping forth, you take a peek.
The air around you starts to reek.
The smell of fear, you know Its game.
The creature's here, you see the flame.
The dragon roars and fire he spits.
Your sweat now runs in rivulets.
The heat is strong, the noise intense,
you tell yourself you've lost all sense.
But still you step, though slower now.
You've come this far...and wonder how.
Besides by Fear, you've not been touched.
You see the ball the talons clutch.
Between the claws...an arc of light.
Inside the ball, your soul you sight.
Something wells inside your heart,
you vow you shall not be apart.
Moving forward, now you run
knowing this can't be undone.
You've seen the light, the other side,
and now there's no place left to hide.
So armed with truth and strength of will
you move in close to die...or kill.
When all at once the globe floats free
from the claws of captivity.
It hovers close, this crystal sphere,
to take you in, and out of here.
You raise a doubtful hand aloft
to touch the ball with light so soft.
When suddenly the torches light
is far below, as you take flight.
The glow surrounds you, holding fast,
as you are brought to earth at last.
The light goes out, but not apart.
It lives inside your beating heart.
And there it stays forever bright,
to guide you through the dark of night.
By day, before, you've never seen
a sly so blue nor earth so green.
And though the rain comes sometimes through,
the master of your life is you.
And of the dragon roaring loud?
He still tends his frightened crowd.
With noise and flame, but ne'er a fight
to keep them cowering in the night,
until such time another's faith
steps forth against The Paper Wraithe.
Copyright David Reynolds 1994
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