Hidden in the jagged, craggy rocks above the fells,
The black and yawning cavern where the Winged One
Desolate, and windswept, a dreary mournful peak
Black as polished ebony, forbidding, cold and bleak.
Cloaked in mist, and rich in local legend I've heard
Where sleeps a fearsome dragon, bewitched by Merlin's
And he will sleep beneath that Tor for long eternity
Unless a maiden, in true grief, sheds tears
She must be pure, and full aware of his cruel, tainted
And at the first light of the day, three glistening
tears bestow. Unafraid, she must approach, and drop them one by one
Upon his slumbering countenance, and the spell will
At least that's how the Legend goes, and what
the locals say
In hushed tones to the tourists, every year
And told to a young student, staying nearby on the
She decided to climb up the Tor, and see it
It took her longer than she'd thought,to scale the
But eventually, in waning light, she clambered to
Before her was the entrance to the fabled dragon's
But when she looked around, she found the cave was
stark and bare.
There was a dark, oppressive air, inside that dusty
Uncomfortable, and feeling cold, the student turned
But the mist had fallen thick and fast, blotting out
Too perilous to climb back down, she settled for the
Exhausted by the upward trek, she slept for quite
And when she woke, to wait for dawn, the Legend came
Dragons are just animals…..and incapable of spite……
Perhaps man gave them reason to prey on him by night.
She thought about the mighty beast, wounded and
Hunted, and tormented, and unjustly vilified.
Returning to this gloomy place, safe upon his
Softly, and unnoticed, crystal tears ran down
They fell and rolled into a crack, within the stony
Then through the velvet depths they fell, 'til they
could fall no more.
One, two, then three, they gently slid along his brow….
Then those three tears, as if on fire, gave off an
Up above, the student said "I'm just a stupid fool,
Upset about a story children tell at nursery school."
Picking up her back-pack, she set off upon her way,
For the mist had cleared, and she could see the first
pale shafts of day.
Returning to the cottage, she packed up her books
And got ready for her journey, for today she travelled
And sitting on the evening train, passing through
She thought she saw a plume of smoke, that rose from
The mist's come down, it can't be smoke, she mused
as she sped by.
And as she watched, it curled, and spread, and drifted
in the sky.
Perhaps I woke him up, she thought, and couldn't help
At her own imagination, and over-active mind………
Later in the village, a tremor rumbled through the
And the faintest scent of sulphur, seemed to linger
The second tremor set the pots all rattling on the
"The Winged One's turning over", they joked amongst
And I, alone wait on the fells, for him to take to
And I have watched ten thousand years in terror of
If he regains his full true strength, my spell will
He'll resurrect his brethren, and dark chaos will
For I am Merlin, I'm the Watcher, and a task I must
I must strike that Demon down before he sees
the light of dawn.
Tonight I hold the fate of Earth, in these two
I must triumph, I'm the Watcher, and the Guardian