Mythic Beast


The beast within its cavern stirs
And dreams of faraway —
Awake, asleep, the line between them blurs.
Where drowsing dragons pray
The ancient silent gods weep not
For leather wings now clipped.
Fear and unbelief shape their lot
The brave old ways have slipped
From fantasy, the tales they knew.
The skittering human beasts,
Do, bold, assert, “They never flew!
So say our new-found priests.”
Bones of dread, splintered by the cry,
Shift under scales and scars,
But one awakens, longs to fly.
“Come, there’s hope among the stars.”
And if she must, she’ll mount alone
To gain the star-flecked sky
In black of night she’ll claim her throne
To watch mankind pass by.
Her wings outstretched she leaps for home
Another joins the flight
Unbound at last and free to roam
They give themselves to night.
Say not that dragons never were,
You’ll chain your heart to earth.
Your beast within its cavern stirs,
The sky, your place of birth.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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