It comes within the dark of moon, black wind
whispering 'neath leather wings. Seeking,
searching the scent of life, with eyes that
pierce the deepest gloom, the fog of clouds
with clearest sight.A scream that shatters,
rents and wrenches, ripping gashes in the
cold clear night. Nostrils flaring, lips a'
curling, eyes that glare with hungers fire.
Teeth of ivory, polished, ground; on the bones
of men, finely honed. I lay upon the cold
hard earth, my body white against the dark.
So frail and soft with warm blood churning,
deaths desire, stomachs yearning.The beast it
swirled about my head, circled, swooped,
certain death, talons reaching, grasping, ripping.
I screamed in terror as my world went red.
James Jarrett
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dragon-8/
