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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Folklore · #2308367
A tale of mythic warriors.
‘Ruahfyre’s Warriors’



A lone man on the road
Town to town he rides, his head held aloft
Scars hiding the steeliness in his eyes
Around his fire on the outskirts of town
The young gather in earnest to hear his tale of old…..

For as long as humans have walked the land
A savage and bloody war has raged
From the morning star to evening’s dim light
Men have clashed with wood and steel.
Many falling quickly , drowning in themselves
The victor returns home, bringing with them, the spoils of conquest
Abandoning the mess of armor and gore
In their wake a foul stench wafts westward
The bodies baking in the day.

In this unforgiving time where sea meets fire
Wars are fought and won by men who ne’er grow weary
In the soul of these warriors, the mighty blood dragon dwells,
Beating His wings, life thumping from His chest
His rousing victory cry, as the final enemy dies
Fierce and loyal His warriors ne’er succumb
As the evil remnants gather, the warrior captain,
Hardened by battle life, sounds the charge.
Forgotten, often dismissed, survived as a bedtime fairytale.

Ruahfyre. Our mighty Blood Dragon
Ancient guardian for this forest covered isle
His spirit lives in men, the Blood Warriors
Guardsmen sworn to defend Him with sword, spear and flesh.
Fueling their fire. Forging them to victory.
Fearing no foe. Fighting to the last.

This land abandoned by the world, lost from memory
The remaining silence, so eerie.
Above the thick forest as the day’s last tune fades
The new moon rises, night’s eyes hide,
Shadows grow, swallowing the sky.
Through this black and silent sea
The Blood Dragon, most ancient of beasts, flies.
Starbursts of ice, frozen diamonds for eyes
Glinting softly for the smallest of light.

Returning home triumphant to his well hidden fortress
His sanctuary, his people’s teacher
Protected by his warrior guardians
Blood sworn to serve til hearts beat no more
Buried amongst a forest of twisted cords of sinew,
Woven branches of heavy vine, dressed in razor edged thorns,
Laden heavily with leaves, green & grey.
Growing wild at the dragon’s keep,
Old and gnarled as the beast it hides.

Ruahfyre. Our mighty Blood Dragon
Ancient guardian for this forest covered isle
His spirit lives in men, the Blood Warriors
Guardsmen sworn to defend Him with sword, spear and flesh.
Fueling their fire. Forging them to victory.
Fearing no foe. Fighting to the last.

A lone man on the road
Town to town on his ageing steed
Behind his scars, he is filled with pride
His faint starbursts shine at the thought
He’ll not be the last…..

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