Occidental

​"On the wings of dying angels
fell the hopes from all in Heaven
scabbards litter, flaming swords scatter
unsheathed and thrown to the wind.
Smoke wisps trail from empty villages, wizard pipes and dragon nostrils, grown old amongst the scorched earth and burning pagans, they are sacrosanct."    ~G.J.  (Excerpt from- Dying Worlds)



Shadows
fell over
ashen faces, towering castles
the underbelly of wrath
scale
fire on breath

multi-hooved horses
cattle
snatched
by thunder of dragon
weave helpless through pasture

painted wings flap then fold
turned talons
snatch
break, human bones
crunched cries
scream with agony
flail limp
crush
daggered jaw
sewn patterns
litter sky

Woe we are hung, draped above tree
mounted on rooftop ,baggage in the street
sacks of potatoes, the eyes bulge dripping from socket
as the fires blaze town to forest

Orange candles burn lit to heaven
mountains move, quake with tremor
as grottos call and beckon
sleep the pride falls
a year without witness

sated slumber sinks wrapping tail
the slaked thirst, padded belly
cool the vain on piles of gold
the countryside eyes slip into dream
doused flame craggy features lay dormant


~Bards, sing thy song those days of old~





*** Factoid--
Multi-hooved (to each leg) horses, were the ancestor to today's living horses***