Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Dragon Maid

Eyes water blue and frozen over
With the Winter of Despair.
Watch the smoke within the distance,
Rising from the Dragon’s Lair.

The voices on the wind are fell,
Crying ever night and day.
Listen closely, they will tell
The Dragon Maid’s mournful lay.

Born in lands now dark and weary,
Being of the ones called Fey.
Canadel, so they named her.
Canadel, the Dragon Maid.

A doom was set upon her birth
And away her youth did fly.
To journey forth while still young
Though the legends tell not why.

Within her state of discontent,
Long and lonely was her road,
She gave her ear to the call
And many tales of old.

The smell of night was on the wind
Outside the Northern Gate.
Watching eyes saw her approach,
They had called her as of late.

The sword she carried at her side
Glimmered in the moon.
And she felt his gaze and glare
As death inside a tomb.

Then before her stood the shape
Of a great and mighty worm.
Here, she knew, the Dragon’s Call
Had foretold this eve, her doom.

In the morn he mocked her name
But she cried of sudden, “Nay,
“On my name your death is brought,
“The silver of my blade is Fey.”

With these words she took the sword,
Became the creature’s bane,
And thrust it through the great worm’s chest
Where his heart lay hot and vain.

Yet in the very throes of death
The creature spoke once more,
“Canadel, your life is cursed,
“A burden that your mother bore.”

Upon her life a fate he swore,
Proclaiming her to death.
Setting on the Elven fair
The curse of Dragon’s Breath.

On her heart foreboding dwelt
While outside lands did call.
Death would find her soon, she knew,
Should she leave the Northern Hall.

Being proud, she raised her head
To face the Dragon’s curse.
At a run she left the Hall,
Then fell, dead, to earth.

When the Northern Smoke had died,
Travelers dared to venture near.
A lone mourner found her there,
Cold as the new-come year.

It was he did not know her name,
Yet perceived where she was from.
And silently he bore her
To the land from whence she’d come.

Within the cold ground she was laid
On a bitter darkened night.
Thus the Elven harps were played
For Canadel, the Dragon-maid.

©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.

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