The dragon - is his mother, and it comes bearing three gifts. ⁣

The first - asks to secure his armor, and bear his dreary fists. ⁣

⁣

His allegiance goes to nature, for that which allows her in;

His passion for the selective muse, that draws the line within. ⁣

⁣

The dragon is his chaos, the second gift to tame the blackness. ⁣

Across the ridge it rises, and starts to make him conscious. 🌺⁣

⁣

The monster - is inside you, you have to tame the dragon. Not just the wings and fangs, but your own beast - must rise from darkness. ⁣

⁣

The flowers that I fettered, a damsel in distress. Here procuring the ancient flowers, I open from my chest.⁣

⁣

Across the ridge it rises, my heart bleeds the ocean calmness. ⁣

I am the only witness, and this body my only promise. ⁣