RED DRAGON

The sun falls down
over her vest,
and clothes, bright,
her wounded breast.
The dragon sips
her breath and scowls.
It doesn't taste
of faultless souls.
He stands with pride,
and anger rose.
His reddened hands
searching so close,
stealing life
and destiny,
from shattered lips
in agony.
The sky grows dark
and toils in sombre.
The light has gone,
ripped, torn aasunder.
It's time to leave
the mirth behind.
The eye of God
is always blind.