unheroic verse

the dove is dead the dragon proudly flies
master of all it sees across the skies

no matter all the wounded maimed and dead
victory alone counts when all is done and said

the tongues of flame that flash down from above
are driven the dragon says by nothing more than love

for all it stands for is the truth and right
its enemies are things that skulk at night

that may be so and human blood be green
but it accords little with what is heard and seen

the beast that mouths the sky and rules with flame
immune to thought immune as well to shame

teaches us only that all men bow to power
but that is bound to stay only for a short hour

the dragon's might the vast span of its wings
are transitory simple mortal things

but what it burns and tramples in its haste
may be forever broken and laid waste

meanwhile we wait and cower and hide
until the beast finds out the price of pride