Can you imagine that

When the Jiva monks of the Obele
Were gathered together in prayer
A dragon flew above.

She flew so low, her tail caught
Taught on the altar rail
And pulled her fraught to a halt in the air.

The monks aLL scuttled back in fear
Except one, young, who ran to pull and tug and
Let the dragon clear of the sacred brass boundary
Between the there and the here.

They still talk about that then there
But she has long forgot
The time she was momentarily delayed
In Xhaiden Dale.


Penned by my hand on the 15th of Mayan, in the year 846 AF.