The real you

It is never a start or an end

but is present 

like air, or the earth,

so whole and invisible,

so much, yet so little

of what we 

perceive as real.

It never really is an intention

nor a thought,

or even a wish 

in the slightest.

But creeps up on you

while you are distracted

pursuing an alternate truth.

Harsh, maybe, but is also

a mirror,

of what cannot be sought

or seen,

for where indeed 

do you draw

a line, between yourself

and the enemy?

Dragon heart

My life began as

I reached him.

The day, I hear, 

wraps around him.

The night, is shy

and yet in silence

awaits

for he shall wake

to fly without wings,

to burn without fire

to dive without fear

to perhaps fall

and break,

and yet stand tall

and brave.

My quill waits in hunger

for I am merely a witness

to a phenomenon

so strong and powerful

that it consumes me

thoroughly - 

as I evolve

slowly, but surely,

a bit more like him
a little less like me.