Of Dragons and Donkeys

by Harry

Submitted by Katharyne

.

Vast darkness overtakes the sky,
clouds form, the world begins to cry.
Joints creak rheumatic ally.
My mind wanders helplessly.

I call it arthritis of the brain.
It is consistent with the rain.
Journeying to distant lands, I go
frolicking in the sun’s dark glow.

A princess dancing in the field,
the weapon of love I wield.
Against a dragon it is not strong,
but he cannot hold me captive long.

A circle of fire around me grows.
The monster from Hell bellows and blows,
then softly he speaks, deceiving me.
Cunningly he offers misery.

Deceived by him in foolishness,
locked in a tower with my sins,
I await a prince; myself I can’t save.
To the dragon, I am a slave.

My prince will be fair and strong I think,
swiftly riding to his lady in pink.
On a horse he’ll come, sword in hand
To slay the beast and free the land.

In my tower of this rescue I dream,
a victim of the devil’s scheme.
Then one day a clip-clop I hear,
my heart dances with joy and fear.

At last my mighty Knight has come,
to fight and free, to lead me home.
But then I see a figure grim,
on a donkey, this can’t be him!

My prince is just not fair at all,
too frail, he’ll be beaten in a brawl.
At the gate his donkey he dismounts,
the dragon in secret waits to pounce.

As soon as the man nears the door,
the devil springs with a mighty roar.
His jaws open wide, his mouth descends.
This man has surely met his end.

The dragon easily swallows him whole.
My dreams are dashed; he has my soul.
In this tower I’m doomed to stay,
until my fatal judgement day.

Three minutes since my world has crumpled,
And oddly the fiend’s scales seem rumpled.
His body quakes as he falls down.
Red pools of blood form on the ground.

From the dragon’s stomach my prince appears.
I run to him weeping happy tears.
“You’ve slain the dragon and thwarted death,
I give you my soul, my heart, my breath.

Come, my prince and carry me home.
With you I could weather any storm.
On your asinine steed I’ll ride,
and we will always be side by side.”

“Nay, fair lady,” my saviour replied.
“To say I don’t love you would be a lie,
but I have other work I must do,
this work cannot conclude with you.

I’ll guide you on your journey home,
while through dark pathways you roam, alone.
And when our work is all complete,
again in my kingdom we will meet.”

“I do not question you, wise king,
to you alone great praise I will sing.”
And with this we went separate ways,
To meet again in more perfect days.

The rain has stopped so my story ends
My brain from the realm of magic rends
itself, to mortal will it must bend.
Adieu ‘till the next rain my friends
.
.
By: Katharyne Reitsma

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