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Literature Text
Born from fire and reborn from ashes
In the red sky like the sun it flashes
Flying up in the sunset’s flaming colors,
Creating a majestic sight like no other.
It roamed the land like a living ember
Far longer than anyone can remember
Always heading to lands unseen by man
And regions untouched by human hand.
The king of birds as some people call it
Keeps the fire of imagination brightly lit,
Can heal the wounds of those who deserve,
And share wisdom from his great reserve.
Its song is like pure honey for the ear
That the gods themselves stop to hear,
This symphony of sounds unheard before
Can bring eternal peace and end every war.
In the end it will meet its fiery demise
To rise again and fly back in the skies
Reminding us that no matter the pain
We can rise back and start all over again.
Teutorix Maxen
August 19, 2015
In the red sky like the sun it flashes
Flying up in the sunset’s flaming colors,
Creating a majestic sight like no other.
It roamed the land like a living ember
Far longer than anyone can remember
Always heading to lands unseen by man
And regions untouched by human hand.
The king of birds as some people call it
Keeps the fire of imagination brightly lit,
Can heal the wounds of those who deserve,
And share wisdom from his great reserve.
Its song is like pure honey for the ear
That the gods themselves stop to hear,
This symphony of sounds unheard before
Can bring eternal peace and end every war.
In the end it will meet its fiery demise
To rise again and fly back in the skies
Reminding us that no matter the pain
We can rise back and start all over again.
Teutorix Maxen
August 19, 2015
Literature
The Dragon's Den - A Short Story
The Dragon’s Den
Miles knew the sounds of the sleeping house, the oppressive quiet. He heard his own breaths and the wind blowing gently against the window, the soft rustle of his sheets as he moved in bed. Blanketed by darkness, there wasn’t much to see in his room; a small night light on the far wall cast its pale glow on a pile of colorful children’s books.
The boy waited for a few more minutes, listening for any interruptions to the stillness. Sensing nothing, he carefully slid from under the blankets and out of bed, hands clasping around a book that lay on the shelf nearby. He padded silently to the small closet and e
Literature
Dragonsong
I heard the singing of the wyrms
In an apocalyptic dream
A sibilant exultation
A song in the key of fire
Music too strong for mortal ears
Notes that unbind the elements
I woke with my mind still aflame
And the taste of ash on my tongue
Literature
Dragons
Dragons.
Some say they never were,
And were birthed from imagination.
The same say that fantasy
Is the realm of children and the insane.
To believe in the magical,
the mythical,
And the fantastic
Is to be as a child or a madman.
I am neither and I believe in dragons.
The majestic Lords of skie
Born of fire.
In an averie of flames
The eggs lie
Warmed by mothers breath.
Emerging weak and hungry,
Parchment wings
Unfurl for the first time.
Infant sings
For mothers attention.
Noble, proud and powerful
Lords of the skie
Reach the very stars with
A thermal sigh
And one thunderous wingbeat.
Upon the winds they soar
Swooping,
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You're rhymes are fantastic! 