The dragon that breathed

Sitting so lonely in a bench so far
distant rumble of the passing cars
a bleak and distant tomorrow holds
no pain no fear no feet so cold
I fear not of the present or today
but of what shall come or may
a fleeting glimpse of glory divine
or just a bottle of my favorite wine.

I paint pictures unseen yet true
only distant patterns and hues
give rise to works of strange taste
of glorious cities burnt to waste
by looters pillagers and plunderers all
not even the crying babies can make them stall

So churn the machines of slavery
and pay to learn the arts of treachery
all in the name of great saints  YOU SAY
and you wait for another day
we pay today to make ourselves slaves
we pray for someone to make us knaves

FREEDOM IS to choose to stay
and pay and pay and pay AND PAY!!!!!