Ruthless

[anirbas]

I am she:
the one that
rides the wind
from the back
of a ferocious dragon-
calls himself Con Flag Ration

At my side
is my trusty blade-
Nightshade is her name-
used for paring down
the voracious,
barbarian horde

I am she:
born of original sin;
suckled by the wolf;
raised in the pits of hell-
in my heart blackness does dwell-
no room for peace in my soul

Atonement! is my battlecry;
the song of the sword
is my lullaby

I am she...

The one they call ruthless-
otherwise, known as Deth-
by those who cross
the line from right
to wrong...

Once upon a time
I was a princess
in a fairytale,
but, that's
another
story...

[anirbas]

Hmm...Perhaps the seeds of another poetical epical...
Only the Muses know for sure...

Was thinking of a special friend
and it just popped out of me,
inspired by and for her...

You know who you are...

[wistfuldragon]

A sweeping bow with feathered hat to the mistress of the quill...you have my full attention dear heart...full attention...bravo

[anirbas]

thanks for the read and comments, sweetling!
don't know if she's going anywhere...
she seems to have disappeared-
a waft of smoke drifting
upwards from a cigarette...

[wistfuldragon]

I hope "she" goes somewhere...I hope

[anirbas]

Used to be
if I wasn't fighting
dragons, I was flying
with them...

Now, to old to fight,
to young to die
anytime soon,
but, so feeling
my age, none
the less...

Lackluster in spirit,
I carry on...I carry on

Each moonrise a reminder
of so many sojourns soaring
across an indigo field spangled
with stars as big as castles...

Wisps of mares' tail clouds
flirting through my hair;
thighs, calves and feet
clamped tight and high
upon the beast's whithers
afore of his macropterous wings;
hands free, for where would you
hold a dragon, anyway?

Ah, yes, I remember those days, fondly.

Some Wind Riders had fancy saddles
fashioned to ride their dragons with.
A great advantage if one had the coin
to commission such a saddle to be created.

While others, like myself, used a good
old leathern horse blanket and rode bareback.

But, I always dreamed of owning one of those saddles someday...

Be that as it may, my fondest memories always include
one of my favorite flying buddies. She instilled such ferocious
pride and loyalty. I would have followed her in and out of trenches,
with, or without dragons; with or without a simple horse to ride;
I would have followed her barefoot, if need be...

She was a princess when I met her.
Destined to be a queen, though.

Ah, but, those were the days!
Running barefooted through her mother's
grand gardens together! Butterflies
and faeries, flittering and fluttering
all about us. She called them,
our royal retinue...

Yet, then, came the dark times...
And the woman who would have been queen
became a warrior instead when one of the barbarian
horde lopped off her parents' heads in front of her
and the rest of her poor weeping siblings...
And me, too...I was there...Playing in the castle with...
Shhhh...Hush...I almost called her by the name
she decree she no longer be called by...

But, I'm looking for her. Heard she's been
through these stretches and here about.
She calls herself Ruthless, these now days
and her dragon is known as Con.

And who am I, might you ask?

I am Mergatroit Ethelrood.