Hope's Lasting Battle

She sits on her throne glaring into the distance,
sensing the threat that approaches.
She has seen it all before, one hundred times over.
The humans come to conquer her land… her Home…
the only domain she has known.

She has saved its reverent beauty many a time;
her pledge unwavering till her dying breath.

She must gather the others…
of the darkness and light… the fire and water…
and the waves of the wind.
Band them together to save what is left of
enchantment and her dwindling realm.
Forgo any difference, to combine their powers
to drive the enemy back to the hills of
their own desolate land.

She dons her armored scales and the flag of her dying clan,
releasing a shrill scream through the thickening air
as she lifts herself from the throne she must protect
to gather her army of dragons from the corners of the globe.

“Will we need reinforcements this time?”
She ponders as she glides.

The faerie queen approaches with her offering of support
and a troop of armed and armored warriors.
The unicorn herd rushes through the trees,
silent as glistening shadows,
to meet her in a glen and ready themselves;
their king bowing in allegiance at the almighty’s feet.
She nods as she calls out once more
And listens for the sound of a broken breeze.

A shadow forms to the west.
She raises her head for better sight.
Her army is prepared and gathering as
she leads them to the battle front.
Faeries and unicorns, nymphs and elves…
all mythical, mystical beings long and forgotten
In close stride to await the egocentric evils rising.

The sound of hooves, with the approach of horses,
the glimmer of the armor of man,
bring fear and doubt to some who flee
to the depths of the forest
leaving the Dragon Queen to pray for victory.

And the battle commences…

Unicorns squeal as they spear their distant cousin,
ashamed descendants of their blood
would turn to aide their mortal foe.
Horns drip with scarlet blood from human and beast,
the flowing rivers blend with the silver of
many great, snowy steeds fallen in battle.

The faeries flit about chanting;
casting spells of death in the wake of
the dragon army driving through the human ranks,
teeth and claws ripping…
flames engulfing the army of men.

In the midst of all the Queen, herself,
strives the hardest to win.
Arrows and spears delving in; she stalks forth
to hunt down the leader of these infidels
hoping end this torment on her kingdom and world.

Alas, she is ambushed and cornered; as
the human king laughs mockingly in her face.
In a fit of terror and wrath
She drives through the troops that encircle,
ignoring the piercing and slicing upon
the tender flesh which armored scales will not protect.

She captures the human king.
Sinking her claws into his arms
she carries him high above,
into the gentle winds of the evening,
to drop him down on his beloved followers.

With the death of another wretched lord
the enemy retreats.

Though bleeding and bruised, the creatures rejoice
for they shall live again, without the meddling of man.

The Dragon Queen beams as she returns
to her throne, to tend to her fresh wounds
And keep vigil over her domain.
She glares to the West in the waning light,
Knowing it will not be long before
the next clash of human and hope…