Two dragons

Flames flicker off the fire dragon,

His tail like an African-warrior’s spear.

Pumpkin orange blood melts from his pupils,

His eyes staring into your soul.

He rips through the carcass of his last meal,

His claws like coat hangers.

His heart is as black as ebony,

He takes no pity.

His wings extend,

Ready to take flight.

His legs are jack-in-the-boxes,

Preparing to pounce.

He springs into the midnight-gloom,

Leaving an eruption of terror across the landscape.

But then, on the other side of Dragon Mountain,

There is a cave, like a humpback whales’ mouth.

His bones crumbling to the ground,

The ice dragon wails with antagonising pain.

Shivers flow through his skin,

Which is a blanket of bubbles.

His once majestic wings,

Have frozen like a statue in the bitter-cold wind.

Air wheezes out his nostrils,

Like a broken exhaust-pipe.

Mice use his toes as pillows,

Birds use his horns as nests.

A silver tear drops from his beautiful, crystal-blue eyes

They are lonesome lakes,

Hypnotising all around.

Voices dance in the air,

As the last ice dragon falls still.