The Dragon Became a Modern Poetaster

My words, my thoughts, my final one

My words, my thoughts, my final one

A wyrm amongst black rot
as word curdles thoughts.
The earth turns its face
upon the human race.

Blazes burn, engorged
in blood, flesh, and swords.
Mirrors emblazoned toward
the image of our new lord.

Night begins the hour,
and finally birthed a flower.
In the revenant choir
is the last to lead us higher.

Drawn into mercy,
we beg forgiveness for thee,
and in the morning glory
we find what's more than holy.

They bled the Earl of Dawn
and sacrificed the bless'd fawn.
In the window we have drawn
the golden sword ever long.

In the last words we speak
we find memoirs of the meek.
Into the garden on silent feet,
so many spiders we are to meet.

With poisoned lips and grave words,
it speaks only of the absurd.
And we, the watcher, now do listen
to the wrath of what betrayed him.

My prayers are folly
lay among the holly.
Breath in the night
and receive the light.

He said to me, under the elder tree,
"What sweet oaths you give to me
but do you know how to be truly free?
When your eyes in me do see,
lies and falsity, within what I decree?"

I can believe in petty strife,
now they wield the sacrificial knife.
He prepares to lay down his life
to protect the world – his wife.

Now they speak within the green
of that which does glint and sheen.
I remove the indolent spite
by which they claim is their right.

My words, my thoughts, my final one
is what shall not be undone.
Cast away this skin to bare
a burden I deemed ready to share,
and within my lengthy locks of hair
I reveal the crown of stars I wear.

To breath a promise
and receive the law I miss.
To grieve in silence,
my final kiss.

To let go of loss
and pay the cost.
We shall stand with blade unsheathed,
within this fiery star we're wreathed.
Pronounce now the days of the final king,
as we leave our knees and take to wing.

I can't recall the poison once given
to all those held imprisoned
within the borders of the proud.
A hand faded innocence as if it were a cloud.

We share the burden.
We share the right.
I shall take up arms tonight,
lest the garden be set alight
and all that shames us be believed.
Into the tapestry then is weaved,
the order chaos once perceived.
For I am called this day
to bring the sword and light the way.

If you hear, know now to say,
"With you I shall stand on this day.
In this hour, in this way,
till the last of my soul decay
and my heritage be blown away
into the ashes of time erased
till I am ready to be faced
by my own reflection I once disgraced."