It is on the wings of the softest prayer
There is no room for hope in the dragons lair
To be faithful tomorrow is a lethal snare
Many souls are alone, the dragons dare

For to be alive and happy is to much
All the mortals rapt for reapers touch
Slinking lithe mandible stealing the crutch
The dragon forced them into a shrinking hutch

We all die and are expendable yet no rage
There is no use for science, it is no sage
Somehow the spirit choose a steely metal cage
We see no hope because we can't turn the page

There we are standing beside the vast mourning hill
Debating the promise of consequence with that pill
Facing a window to yesterday caught on the sill
The dragon holds only one power, it starts with kill

To break the bondage of the dragons power
We must look out far atop the human tower
Simply say mercy and offer the sacred flower
But we must blind the fact of petals sour

This one took me by surprise. It just wrote itself you know.

In any case, I hope this is well received, my first good, postable poem of the year.