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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1979396-The-Dragons-Child
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Fantasy · #1979396
The bonds of love are boundless.
The Dragon's Child


Time's mists part, a cloven shroud,
with stories rumored to be true
about the times when men were proud
while overhead great dragons flew.

It came to pass that men learned fear;
the dragon clans demands grew great.
A time of war was drawing near,
yet neither could foresee their fate.

Through accident, her parents killed
a child was left within deep wood.
Though brave of heart, she was unskilled
as wolves stalked her to where she stood.

A dragoness heard her faint cry;
it spoke to her mother's instinct.
She could not condone this child to die.
It was as if the two were linked.

With claws and teeth she intervened
protecting the child as her own.
She fought the predators like a fiend
'til naught was left but blood and bone.

Though fearful, the child understood
that this beast was her defender.
Rather than run away in the wood
she offered herself in surrender.

The bonds of love are boundless.
Each filled a need in the other.
Their language, although it was soundless,
was that of a daughter and mother.

She grew, reaching maturity,
having learned their dragon ways.
She was filled with their purity
and learned their soaring songs of praise.

Each year as winter would succumb
to the promises of spring
they'd seek out the tree of wisdom
for their yearly gathering.

Magic and nature intertwined
each strengthening the other.
It was here the truth was divined –
nature, man, and beast were brothers.

She was tasked to bring enlightenment
to the world of humankind;
she set forth with great excitement,
the words of hope lay in her mind.

The nations didn't see the need;
by right they were supreme.
They were, somehow, convinced their greed
was more than just their dream.

It came to pass there was a war;
death ruled the land and skies.
No longer did the dragons soar
as the lands filled with angry cries.

The dragon numbers dwindled
until just a few remained.
Peace could not be rekindled;
all hope was finally drained.

The dragoness spoke to her child.
"Time can heal all wounds," she said.
"In time our kind won't be reviled,"
and she gently touched her head.

"I place you in safekeeping
until that day arrives."
With magic, she lay sleeping.
To this day, she still survives.

She stirs in her eternal sleep,
protected in the dragon's lair,
when thunder rumbles, dark and deep,
and lightning flashes through the air.

She dreams of soaring, wild and free
above the oceans and the land.
She dreams of the lost wisdom tree -
where one day man will understand.



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An entry for the December round of "Invalid Item
Line Count: 72

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