Alexander's Dragon Poetry

The Snow Dragon
by Alexander

Mystical, magical, fable and story,
The beast captivates you in all of his glory.
As old as forever, as far back in time,
The legend is told through word and through rhyme.

Far, far away on the east of the globe,
A Buddhist monk sits in a tapestry robe.
Its origin secret, its age is unclear.
It will only be worn for this day in the year.

Woven within it, a language unheard,
Symbols and scriptures from some ancient word.
Known down the ages, proclaimed to be true,
This is the tale that I bring unto you.

It speaks of a Dragon that once ruled the land,
Each one of the people were at its command.
As long as is known, it was all they could do,
The dragon would come once a full moon was new.

A young girl then offered, a virgin to steal,
Each dawn on this day, he would come for his meal.
This taking of innocence twelve times a year,
Did not meet their wishes, nor banish their fear.

This ritual giving was done in this way,
So cruel and obscene, yet a small price to pay.
For many a lifetime the same has been done,
The dragon is gone with the rise of the sun.

Yet still they must meet this demand from the skies,
To live out their lives with no fear of reprise.
He sleeps far away, in a cavern of ice,
Yet always returns for each new sacrifice.

Then one day no longer such price could they bear,
A virgin just couldn't be found anywhere.
Such dread in their hearts, as their village was torn,
No answer to give to the promise they'd sworn.

A full moon was rising, once more in the skies,
And slowly from slumber the dragon would rise.
Then fly many leagues over mountains of snow,
To land at his village in wait, down below.

Such panic and screams heard, as many did cry,
Till someone stood up and said "what if we lie.?"
"What else can we think of, our one choice is clear"
"We all need to plan as the dragon draws near"

Silently moving towards them in flight,,
Outstretched, fully open, he came into sight.
Eyes red and glaring, his talons spread wide,
He landed and folded his wings to his side.

A gray beast of stature, like none ever seen,
It crawled to the place where its prey should have been.
All they had left in the midst of their plight,
Was two strands of rope blowing free in the night.

Such anger within him, who plays such a game..?
His breath reaching out as it burst into flame.
With roaring resentment, he turned to the rear,
A spokesman approached showing no sign of fear.

"She cut herself loose, and made of in the snow,
"Towards the high peaks, is the way she did go"
The dragon loomed at him with hate as he spoke,
So tiny and helpless surrounded in smoke.

Yet small as he was, he held true to his stare,
The dragon's eyes fixed as it took to the air.
In such disapproval it spit out more fire,
Such succulent flesh had escaped his desire.

It turned as to move back the way that it came,
Then lashed out its tail with intention to maim.
The blow struck the man, threw him hard to the floor,
His body lay broken, his life was no more.

The beast scoured around trying hard to make sense,
No sound but its breathing, the atmosphere tense.
Then slowly it rose through a blanket of smoke,
The townsfolk lay hidden, nobody else spoke.

They watched as it turned back to search for its prize,
So mad its demeanor, such pain in it's eyes.
As moonlight reflected the glint from each scale,
It took to the night, and gave birth to this tale.

The dragon searched low with a desperate gaze,
The snow drifts would melt in a fiery blaze.
Then slowly it headed to search higher ground,
To look for a fruit that would never be found.

From that night the Dragon did never return,
The people were wary, yet slowly did learn,
That somewhere above them, in mountains so high,
A dragon did search through a blustery sky,

Surveying the snowcaps, and ground down below,
Uninhabited lands where a man dare not go.
Where winter is winter, for all the year round,
No sun melts the snow, and no life can be found.

And as time stepped through ages no detail was lost,
The dragon who ruled them, the price that it cost.
A thousand years past and the tale still is told,
From mother to children, from youngest to old.

Yet all that is left to reflect on the truth,
An old man holds on to a gift from his youth,
From father to son it has traveled through time,
Along with this story here written in rhyme.

The snow dragon high from the mountains he came,
To get from the people the prize he must claim,
Till one man stood up and in turn lost his life,
And ended an era of struggle and strife.

The village did thrive as no more they were wronged,
The beast had returned to the place he belonged.
At long last they lived through this battle and won,
The legend remains but the dragon is gone...........

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