From The Womb Of Fire, To Love, To Live, And Murder Not (29) Poem by Captain Cur

With Mavros gazing on that glorious child
cognizant of where god and nature meet
and the world before him unreconciled,
littered with joyless years, devoid of peace,
kingly thrones mere kindling that fueled his flaming seat.
Carnage! As each new domicile was stoked
with the soothing calmness of his fire's reach;
ruins greeted his enemies when they woke,
vengeance the sole language both man and dragon spoke.

Zahra cut by the shards of splintered time
feeling so much lost with each futile gain,
then violence ebbed, seemingly in decline,
portents appeared, competing less with pain;
like spring birds nesting, singing songs in joyous strains.
Multitudes of retuning flocks circling round,
caws descending from each lively swarm,
gifting hope to hearts that were winter bound
emerging summer dawns greening barren ground.

A delightful age! Zahra's poignant smile
placated the strong and strengthened the weak
and through these years nations prospered while
inventing new harvesting and planting techniques,
yielding ample crops and pressing finer wines to drink.
Man developed art and practiced thought;
negotiating with an unbruised cheek,
cherishing others, honoring their hearth,
desiring to love, to live, and murder not.

Mavros departed, seeking winter's snow.
In these climes Mirren was rumored to be,
and through ice what gifts might fire bestow,
melting all pretenses. Man's destiny,
unlocking glacial waters longing to be free.
Imbued with sounds of ocean's farthest roar,
attaining height above wondrous mountain seas,
upon his breastplate carved in dragon lore
oceans would be released and man would be no more.