The Wyvern's Song

In snow-capped peaks, the Wyvern seeks its solitary fate. "The Lair" Entry

The Wyvern’s Song


The storms come down from Zeus’s crown,
the wild wind sings its song
of times long past. The words still last
though memories are gone.

Within dark clouds, the painted shrouds
remind us of a time
when mankind bared its teeth and dared
the Gods in word and rhyme.

In snow-capped peaks, the Wyvern seeks
its solitary fate.
Once each year when the sun draws near
it hungers for a mate.

It’s only then that it does descend
driven by its need.
Not in its plan was the spread of man
and his unending greed.

Though it was late, the hand of fate
moved silently that day.
The dragon’s course took it to the source
that would, its heart, betray.

Came a maiden fair, with flaxen hair
who gazed with azure eyes
upon the beast, ten meters ‘least,
both starting in surprise.

The smell of death upon its breath
it roared a challenge out.
Its wings unfurled, its tail uncurled;
intentions weren’t in doubt.

A moments pause, its razor claws
flashed in the fading light.
This was its land and it would stand
prepared for any fight.

Fighting her tears, she fought her fears;
she saw this as God’s test.
With a prayerful voice, she made a choice
laying hand upon its chest.

“We’re not the same. It’s easy to blame
our ills on one another.
And yet from birth it is the earth
that is our common mother.”

For a second, she felt it beckon;
a plea to understand
that, though apart, they shared a heart
that loved this wildling land.

It was too late, for only hate
had blossomed from man’s fear.
By iron spell, the dragon fell
pierced by a soldier’s spear.

She lay its head upon a bed
formed by her lap and cried.
Her heart burned, the lesson learned
from mankind and his pride.

With his last breath, upon his death,
a mournful final note.
A song the breeze captured with ease -
forgiveness from its throat.

She swore a vow that even now
in heraldry is seen.
The Wyvern’s face, in honored place,
adorns the crests of Queens.

Late at night, ‘neath the cold starlight
you can hear the Wyvern’s song.
The sad words sigh in the empty sky.
None remain to sing along.

A entry for "Invalid Item" 
Prompt for round forty-five: Lindworm ~ A lindworm (also known as a Wyvern in Britain) is a winged bipedal dragon, often with a venomous bite. The shed skin of a lindworm was believed to greatly increase a person's knowledge about nature and medicine. In legends, lindworms are often very large and eat cattle and bodies, sometimes invading churchyards and eating the dead from cemeteries.
Line Limit: Minimum 30
Line Count: 64