From The Womb Of Fire, Ascending Hands Touching Serene Hours (5) Poem by Captain Cur

That love can stoke a dragon's wintry heart;
Maverick as a windswept icy plain,
An abysmal wilderness to depart
Saturated with solitary pain
Beyond reach like an anchor severed from its chain;
Sinking, still warm light shines, moving among
Every cold and rampant thought, thought in vain,
For in that moment geyser fountains sprung
And thawing beats in that wintry heart had begun.

Ascending hands then touched serene hours
Counting years, the dragon did not return,
Man's knowledge in furtherance of power
Rebuild the ruins left by the dragon's scorn.
On this day utterances that a child Queen was born,
Civilization rejoiced in perfect ease
Shouting with pleasure to the beaming morn,
Consecrating themselves in drunken glee
Longing to build great ships to sail across the sea.

Invention played on man's restless fingers
Bestowing heightened gifts in soulful strains
While on the harp vibrations linger
Once they fade are never that sweet again
Or true benevolence restored to an evil reign.
So, man can tilt lies to a truthful sway
Loftier than what was actually said
Till the ideals of hope are worn away
And sleeping dragons return to feast on their prey.