Salty petals fall over large bounds of creamy pillows, they drip right into the dragons mouth, hot and steaming with sorrow. The dragon has thick purple scales, shimmering like a beetroot in the dry and dusty sunlight, her eyes are dark and misty green like the lotus' sun bed, a tropical hailstorm beating down on the deep amazon's river, fat droplets catapulting themselves onto a shelter of cracked rocks and silver gems pointing through shards of violet. Her cry is loud and screechy, her nostrils flare and huff a dusty smoke as she clams her claws into the earth beneath her, pulling up roots and worms between her pointy milky nails. A thick, deep lilac tale falls against the rippled earth, it bathes there in her ceding. She takes a final sigh as she hits the ground and the plane around her thunders; a dragon knows when she is defeated, defeated by her own worst enemy- herself.
There she hangs her head, her long snout breathes heavily and deeply, sucking in all the smoke and sadness she breathed out. She will not breath such fire again. The fire she will breath will be different, she does not know it yet, has not come to friend such an empathetic loveable companion of fire, she has only ever known to breath out the strongest and tightest heat, regardless of it's true purpose, regardless of it's ability to nurture and love. She has only known anguish and defeat, arrogance and selfishness. But that fire is gone, the gas bubbling in her stomach has poised out and she is soon to gobble up, in her hour of starvation, a new little candle that will light her belly and gleam out through her eyes. The candle will teach her to give herself to others, the fire she will breath will be sun shower, bubbling the whole world in it's warmth and serenity.
But for now she hangs her head, praying to the little candle that it will light her belly and warm her soul.
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