You look like a wolf
in sheep’s clothing

And yet, you say you
are the dragon

Yet, you make us believe
in your story

You breathe no fire

You only wanted the
castle walls
to protect you
from our glances

If you had opened up
Put away your wolf hide

All could see
how lonely you are

And how wrong our story is

---------------------------------------------------------
Ann­e H. Bakke  |  02:09  @   29.05.2016

The evening clouds,
are grey from increasing shadow.
The jagged mists, according to my minds eye, take the forms of dragons,
Encroaching upon me
Until they shatter into ash, their own burning might having destroyed them.
The skulled faces stretch out as if in one last grimace.
The second sooty mass forms into hooks, as the monsters’ lower half tries try reconnect with its collapsing upper.
Rose and tangerine flames waft,
Vanishing into oncoming blackness,
Like spirits hiding into caves, to be reborn as the souls of new mythic reptiles.

Dear ribbons of waterflame,
                       gold, green and blue
                swathes itself around my palms,
                                                            beco­ming
            a ball of radiant waters that floats in
          cupped hands and at the thought of
      love, it buds and curls like a lily's
petal
       and
             the years of hushed times
                  eat at my very soul, nulling
                      deafening me to the music
                             of the mint-dark sky,
                                of the flame-thorn sun
                          of the bone-white stars
                 My feet are kissed by the
            star-studded shores, washing,
       relieving the
  fragments of my shattered
past
I keep the shell of my hope
  shielded
      in my *****, near the heart
        My eyes dancing zultanites
           With my gaze on the horizon
                   rise the clouds of trouble
                    How long will I plan to thrive
                  when I am but a shrinking violet
            cold, iced with scorn
          but
       I am the Mistress of Waterflame
    Daughter of the Mers
and
  Scion of the Dragon Line

     So blood will bend and billow
         like flowers
            So fits the one of the skies and sea
             An expert who delivers in
        the trade of
    death


But the hope in my ***** pulses
      As my bloodlust evulses


                As I dream of the warmth that will soothe my weary

Strangely she saw a cat with wings in the streets.

Strangely she saw a dragon walking in the middle of the town.

Strangely she saw griffons flying and big long serpents swimming in the water beneath a bridge.

Strangely she saw creatures shaped weirdly who simply walked together with other humans.

Strangely she thought she was going mad.

But really what was happening is that she just stood there in one place, strangely frozen, daydreaming.

I don't believe in a prince wearing his armory, slaying the princess' dragon, saving the princess, and living happily ever after together

I believe in the princess wearing her own armory, slaying her own dragons, saving herself , and living her own happily ever after