Chaoskampf

face flush with rage cold as ice on high mountains
ears bloodred as the spit in my mouth
I crawl in silence to a corner of the cave

I think of all I wish to say—
my voice would split the sky as I roared
the lips of a cool breeze would brush against my neck
the corpses of a thousand insects would turn further into dust and winter
the chariot of the god would cast its gentle heat upon the earth on a cloudless day

as I imagine expressing myself, apprehension chills me and I shudder
my nailbitten fingers trace over the stone
as if it were a skull or the body of a lover

some ask why I would shelter in such a dismal place

they say the world awaits me
they claim that all monsters have been slain
and perhaps they even believe their words
but even now I hear the storm of wings
and the ground quakes with the heavy footfalls of clawed feet

innocently they insist that it will be safe to emerge,
but those who do not make their home upon the borders of the map
know nothing of dragons