Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Mist from the Throat of the Dragon

Like the spine of many dragons
The mountains reach across the land
The mist rising is the breath
The cloud swirl is smoke of the damned
Having been burnt by the fire
Spewed from the maw
Of the greatest beasts
With a fiery blast
They are there sleeping
Peaceful at last
Do not awaken them
or they will devour
The entire of the world
In the end
Casting out only the bones
From their the final repast

(Photo James Blair, NGS copyright holder)