The Boy Who Became

He could have been mistaken for a dragon
As the smoke burst out of his mouth
In a puff similar to a cloud
And his skin: wrinkly, tight,
Betrayed his true age,
And his voice, raspy, cut through the air.
His heart, in contrast, held gold
But was ever so hidden
And he bared his teeth to all who wished
To steal or waited to peek
At that glimmering stone.
After some time they ceased
Begging to enter his domain,
Or to be in his presence.
Silence and isolation and
The darkness of his dear cave
Swallowed his whole
And so the dragon he became.

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Mistaken by Men

He was mistaken for a dragon
His eyes pleading, soft and watery,
But they only saw fire.
An outstretched hand, a last resort,
But they only saw talons
And the hand was denied a hopeful clasp.
As he crawled upon the dirt covered floor
His back was painted red and glittered
Like a thousand scales.
With his mouth gaping wide,
They saw the teeth all sharp and shattered,
But did not hear the guttural sound of agony
That escaped and echoed.
He was mistaken for a dragon,
For a creature full of fury and might and… sadness.
The dragon filled his empty soul
And brought them down on their knees in fright.
So, for the courageous men they were,
They dressed themselves in shinning armor
And slayed the horrid beast.
No one wept when the sword became laced
With dragons blood, impure and grotesque,
But all smiled at the peace that followed.

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A Girl Denied and Forced to Take

She wanted a dragon to take her
A girl filled with the lonely
Golden heart of a dragon
Praying like a saint for death.
She prayed for venom, for tooth, or for flame,
Or claw, or even blade
But death was not granted upon her,
Her who had a heart of a beast
But a body of normal proportions.
Forced into a pit of self-pity
Grumbling and shrieking and scowling
With bloody lips and an ever sore tongue.
Her throat, rough and red,
Begged to be severed.
Her wrists, bound to shaking and cracked hands,
Chanted a song of knives.
She wanted a dragon to take her
But none answered her cry.
So, on her final day, she lived it like any other
Alone and quiet in the dark of her cave
By her own hand, she did death’s deed.
The last song of knives played
Settling throughout the empty cave
Before retreating into her still, golden heart;
The heart of a dragon that never was.