The Sad Slumber of the Dragon

In an ancient cave
So dark and deep
There does
A majestic dragon sleep
His scales as old
As time itself
If into his deep past
You would delve

His mighty wings folded
In the slumber dense
His horned pinions
Their razor defense
But he hasn’t stretched
Them in flight for ages
Those times of glory gone
Like faded pages

His hind and foreclaws
Unsharpened and dull
As he has long since
Known no foe
His tail curled about
Resting near his head
The visage that once filled mortals
With such dread

Smoke still curls up
Out of his nostrils as he snores
But he doesn’t feel the inner fire
As in times of yore
His eyes shut in dreams
Eyes from which tears have fallen
Because he no longer
Hears the calling

Of his brother wyrms
Could he be the last one?
It seems that the
Age of Magic is gone
The world descending
Into dullness and greed
Its shine gone
As it sinks in a materialistic sea

The cancer of harsh rationale
And unbelief
Eating wounds in this sphere
So deep
No one longs or cares
For magic anymore
Minds completely shut off and closed
Not like before

When this great dragon
Ruled the skies
And others like him
In their realms so high
Some friend, some foe
All fierce with power
In their time
In their hour

A time when giants walked
And elves thrived in tree cities
And dwarves would mine deep
For their treasures so pretty
Mermen thrived in dazzling empires
Beneath the sea
And druids would revere
The gods of nature and tree

A time of adventure and peril
Of wonder and might
Where the stars would shine
So clearly in the night
And wizards into the
Deepest mysteries would peer
To learn of ancient magicks
That they held so dear

The time of the sword, the lance
And the battleaxe
And the very skies themselves
Would crack
With raging thunder
As angered gods fought their wars
Amongst each other
To prove who was more

And the human folk then
Were nobler it seemed
Filled with honor
And lived by their dreams
Not like today
Where the soul seems sucked out
And the world is in such
Spiritual state of drought

Religion crushing
Such wonders of life
Filling all with fear
Hatred and strife
Technology blasting imagination
To dust
And mankind devolves further
In their base lusts

The old dragon stirs
In his sleep with a groan
And lets out
A pitiful, world-weary moan
And uncomfortably shifts
His gargantuan head
If this is the world now
He would rather be dead520042a-f1

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