The Dragon’s Hoard
In caverns deep where ancient shadows lie,
A mountain’s heart is filled with stolen gold,
Where ember-breaths like distant thunders sigh,
And tales of greedy kings are grimly told.
The scales of jade reflect the torch’s flare,
A living wall of iron, tooth, and claw,
While knights with silver shields and silent prayer,
Stand trembling at the dragon’s jagged jaw.
But gold is cold and heavy to the soul,
A hollow prize for those who dare to dream,
For fire consumes the heart and leaves it whole,
To drift like smoke upon a sunless stream.
The beast and man are bound by one desire:
To guard the flame, or perish in the fire.
The Siren’s Song
The moon is silver on the crashing swell,
Where jagged rocks arise from foam and spray,
To weave a song, a sweet and salty spell,
That leads the weary mariner astray.
Her voice is like the wind through hollow bone,
A melody of grief and lost delight,
That calls to every heart that sails alone,
Across the velvet vastness of the night.
They turn the helm toward the rising sound,
Forgetting wife and home and solid shore,
Until the wooden hull is sharply ground,
And silence reigns upon the ocean floor.
The sea is vast and beautiful and deep,
A graveyard for the secrets that she’ll keep.
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