The Druid and the Dragon: Verse One. [CTPWC]

(This is a true story, set into prose, something I can dilute through words, but never able to tell aloud. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and my heart gets heavy, and with the back of my hand I wipe the tears that have bravely followed the contour of my cheek. I am humbled by the task ahead, coming to grips with past mistakes, yet something within my soul stirs up, and the words come to mind, and so I type. Slowly at first, knowing a month of poetry awaits, and thus I carefully think the words for Verse One. Other verses should follow.)

There was a man once, bonded,
marital vows said,
his right to life absconded.

He withered hence under the rule,
never loved,
a crude stone tool.

He never got how someone wouldn't touch him.

An angel floated, met his face,
and told him then
about disgrace.

He listened.

He, a lump, couldn't fathom more,
broiled empathy chopped up in little bits,
served warm, with vegetables, totally out of character.

The angel said, "Come with me."
I did.
She showed me the world twisted on end, and with her, I wasn't afraid. I found myself within that heart, a part of her never removed, a woman I loved.

*the sound of broken glass tinkling*

The woman I had made love to looked at me one day, smiling. Her smile spread, and warmed the ground.

Her wings spread wide, glistening,
I stood there watching, and listening.

The shiny dragon spoke.
I listened.

"Druid, love, I'll miss you much."

"Not so much as I."

"Goodbye."

I said nothing.