Mirrored Mirage- Image of tangible dreams
As the prince looked into the mirror, he wondered about the tyrant's transgressions. How he was so steadfast in his beliefs in his beliefs of godly goodness and the teachings of the Paladin, a palladium of sword bearing truths. A power higher than himself guided his hand in handyworks self taught. His image lingered in his mind's eye of a mother he barely knew, construed as a healer and living saint. She had passed on, but her soul lived within him. He looked more like her, for the thought perturbed him if he would have maintained his father visage. A deadly incarnation, upon visitation by a man made monster he had grown to hate. Like a lion or a proud animal of self control, he extolled nobility's order. For on his crest was a dragon, a tumultous tag on gone within the wyrm of desire, touching a quagmire and making it soothe inside the great depths of predilection. A dragon is a spirit, living in the constellations and subduing altercation's remorse. The opposite is a kraken, which myths prefabulate to live as sea faring monster within the great bowels of the ocean's depths. Said to rise and then swallow ships with inside's hollow, carrying cargos of paltry sailors. But the dragons breathed fire, flew through higher verandas, with men spreading their propagandas, while on the ground altruism demoted the slash and burn.
A virgin sacrifice was the people's only device, to quell such saurian beasts. To this the prince withdrew, into a new carouseled hue of self indignation. He believed himself better, learning to carry his sword like a feather, an extension of his soul as his newfound strength grew. Bold as he was bright, justice's deliberation was alright, as he sought to be as fast as the wind. A lunging strike, a man's head on the pike outside his father's windowsill...
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