Tonight

I listen to the silence of this night, the simple silence, so full of nothingness that I feel a need to fill it.

I sigh until the sound of my sighs becomes the low moan of the wind over the moors of some far distant land.

I cry until my tears fill the valleys, flood the seas, wash over the mountains.

I pace until the earth is cleaved in two and out of the center rises a golden dragon breathing fire and weeping pearls into the seas that rage between the two halves.

Swooping down he faces me and I see those amazing green eyes gazing into mine, feel his breath hot against my cheek, see my reflection in his golden scales.

He is me at my finest, what I could be, or could have been, or might have been, or even may still be, but he is the best and I don't believe I am.

I am his shadow, the part that never quite stepped out into the light.

Only he doesn't believe that.

And I don't believe him.

But I do believe in him.