Photo by Jacqueline CaseyThere may be dragons in that soul-less flight
where harpies; hovering aloft her bed,
born of a spell that chills the wicked night
and winters in her heart some unknown dread.
There may be dragons in the hate-filled gloom:
a whistling as the icy wind now drones.
As thundering is heard; impending doom
may crack the branches of the empire’s thrones.
Oh, seek to know the reason they are here.
The slow roll and the glaring eyes proclaim
love’s mated with a devil’s crushing leer.
There’s mystery; their birth is foreordained.
There may be dragons in the frozen night
as all those kingdoms hold their breath in fright.
(this poem influenced by “Game of Thrones”…)
