Author’s Notes: This poem/song borrows much of the rhythm and meter from Dies Irae, because that has been haunting me lately. Aside from that, this is yet another song from my story “Dragondust”. As always, feedback greatly appreciated.

And, as always, FPcom messes up my format.

The Making of Dragons

Skies of heavy weather brewing,

Starfire falls, all life pursuing.

Blazing comes the world’s undoing.

The land now burns, the rivers boil.

In death and sorrow, barren soil,

The wheels of Fate now turn and toil.

- - -

From the ashes, hark! They’re calling

Wings and talons, creeping, crawling,

Newborns, hatchlings, stumbling, sprawling.

Flames they seek, with calling, yearning,

Blazing bliss of life-long burning,

Ever-seeking, ever-learning.

- - -

O come the Fire, O come the Flame!

Come black wings, the winds to tame!

Hark! Ash and dust now call the Name

Of the beast that flies with thunder,

Come to tear the world asunder

Mortals' terror, heavens'wonder.

- - -

Stretched-out wings that shade the morning,

Dragons fly against sun’s dawning

Land in silence, world in mourning.

Dragons whisper, sleep or waking

Charms of Calling, Spells of Making

From that day until world’s breaking.