The Dragon

Its tail like a fiery diamond sword beating in the darkness,

Its wings like snapped propellers on an autumn evening,

Its claws bloodstained and sharp like knives,

Its skin like melting snow on a summer’s day,

its spine like jagged rocks on an icy morning,

its tongue nobly like a wet toad’s warts,

its fangs like smashed glass when the snow is blowing in,

its eyes like black holes,

slits into nothing,

waiting to suck you in,

his heart, misunderstood, sad and lonely,