Dragon of the Cloak

Eternally postured,
Receeding into the caves of Mount Athanaton
Stands the Dragon of the Cloak
Holding a flickering remnant of time in his whithering talons.

The creature's form brought forth by the candle's dancing light.
Glazed eyes, of a marble's cold stare, is the extent of his sight.
Rippled scales of crimson sand layer his age-beaten face.
A thick, red, wool-hooded robe undulates along a steady limping pace.

Feeling the essence of his everlasting presence,
Hurling the cloak to asphixiate my senses.
My ignored consent demands all focus on him,
As miscellaneous thoughts spin in a vertigo devoid of whim.

Within the walls of a wind-worn cavernous dwelling,
A repeated bleating capsuled in future's sensored speach.
Seeping out as a slithering mist to continue this silent fortelling,
A low tonality, of an infrasonic melody, beyond empirical reach.

Periodically extracted from a domestic domain
Transfixed amongst dense foliage, dismal and arcane.
Athanaton's familiar sight remains a static monument to infinity,
But the time-keeper's entity is all but distant from me.

Visions of a wax-drippen floor brought forth clues toward my demise.
A life long death sentence exposed to my eyes.
The blood-line of youth left trailing behind.
A twist of his wrist constricted my time.

The mind I once controlled now he holds in his sickle-clawed traps.
Fleeing through the forest's deathwish, served to me on a graven plate.
Syringe-injected images display the blazen candle he grasps,
Reminding me of its extinction that will one day seal my fate.

Dominating my thoughts,
With wicked tenacity.
And whenever he wants,
He shows what is left of me.

Though I rarely see him, I know when he's near
Persistently repeating a phrase only I can hear.
A distant bellowing from his haggard snout,
Whispering delicately, with morbid delight
These mortifying words into my ear...
"Your Time Is Running Out"

Author's Comments: This poem was yet another little attempt at my play of words...I like to get complicated with my writing, as well as devastatingly metaphorical. I just like to be descriptive. This poem represents a dragon possessing immortal life who holds a candle in his hands, and that candle represents the life span of my life. It describes how I sometimes get forced mentally into his world where he exposes the remaining part of the candle signifying how much time I have left. Sometimes, he wickedly tilts the candle to make it burn faster...all in all, this poem is a reminder to me, as well as all of us, not to be constantly concerned with the things we have yet to do, the promises we made for the future, as well as all the things that preoccupy our lives, and to sometimes just enjoy the moment for what is at hand -- for life is fragile and full of stresses, but it should take little effort to envelope ourselves in what we were endowed with.

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