Dragon poems

the different sides of dragons

One of a kind.

Beautiful scales.
Glinting Armor.
Hard shell.

Hoarding gold.
Hoarding secrets.

Soft underbelly.
Always hidden.
For fear of penetration.

Hoarding gold.
Hoarding secrets.

Many fear you and know your brutal strength.
Many know of your prophicies, your into the future dreams.
Many know of your wisdom, deep and untouched.

Hoarding gold.
Hoarding secrets.

But all they se is the hard glint of your fiery eye.
Not the glint of sorrow, for as the centuries or so it seems you grow lonely.
But all they see is the hide of razor sharp jewels protecting the soft insides that none know of,
not the soft, vulnerable, underbelly.
But all they see is that temper, that horrible temper of yours that makes you lash out.
The rage every time gets bigger with each pang of pain, not the torture you endure,
only enlarged because of itself.

Hoarding gold.
Hoarding secrets.

For all anyone sees of you are the sharp teeth and claws, the pointy scales, and the cat-like eye.
For all anyone never sees of you are the soft wings, the tear in your eye, or the grace in which
you live.

Hoarding gold.
Hoarding secrets.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

To The Dragon,
For I see both sides of your fierce and lonely life. . .