Feet sink in soft green tinged sand,

submerge instantly with tainted salt water.

                                                                                                        she waits.


Black blood in her veins

coursing through bruised lips,

chapped and weathered.


Child’s hands outstretched, 

criss crossed with scars of endeavours past

mantle draped and torn,

she mouths languages of dead lands.


Clouds part above – tears fill onyx eyes

staring resolutely into a viscous wind.

Seven sorrows laden her breast,

hidden by wilding matted hair.


Above, far above 

where land juts indignantly

from  tempests waves

he hears her whisper.


Upon the highest crag

woven with knots of old oak

spar grass, charred bones-

he peers majestically at his Kingdom.


Scales opalescent shimmer

the scent of her,

woman, warrior, heroin




she knows the pull of her heart

leads her to flame,

to where her blood runs black

and ashes are





9 responses to “Dragonstone

  1. I love fantasy poetry, and whenever I picture this imagery, I also picture the rocky coastlines, the castles, the mountains and all the raw beauty found in your part of the world. Well written, a lovely visual piece that you have done justice to!

  2. Fanfreakingtastic! Said the girl with the dragon tattoo…tee hee! Shan, you’ve captured the mystery, the magic, the fantasy…and the beast himself within your words…loved it!

Put me out of my misery people!

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