The Terrible Black Dragon

Black DragonI overheard two friends talking about upcoming events in their lives.  One was going with his wife to a casino in Tulsa where they would celebrate their anniversary.  There would be fine dining followed by some time at the slot machines then a night together in a suite.  Another talked about the celebration of a child’s birthday and ensuing party.  There would be relatives, friends and a recently ordered birthday cake with 23 candles.

After the two talked and laughed for a matter of minutes one looked at me and, as if I was going to relate a similar story, asked what I was looking forward to; there must be some upcoming event that I was anxiously awaiting.  With the passage of no more than a few seconds I answered, “I’m looking forward to the end of this day and the time of the Black Dragon.”

There was a moment of silence then one of the two laughed, a brief cynical chuckle, followed by, “why would you say that, are you saying that there is nothing in your life that you look forward to, not even the arrival of the next day.  And what is this black dragon?”

I answered, “When that following day comes, just as it always seems to, I know that I’ll look forward to the ravenous Black Dragon, the darkness that the night brings and the death of that day.”  Both of my friends once again responded with uncomfortable and somewhat forced laughter while one soon commented, “It sounds like this dragon is a terrible creature.”  The conversation then took a turn to lighter topics.

After we parted company, and later that afternoon, I thought once more about the earlier conversation.  I realized that neither of my friends knew exactly what I was talking about and I knew full well that there was no way to ever make them understand my meaning; the meaning of my words when I spoke of the Black Dragon.

While asleep I can fashion dreams into works which very closely mirror my innermost thoughts but when awake I find that my life is filled with so very many flaws.  When I wake I find that I live in a land of giants where I am not welcome and those giants relentlessly torment me and beg me to leave.

The dragon awakes from his sleep each evening but does not move, not one muscle is flexed.  As he slowly opens his eyes he lies motionless while silently waiting for the prey, the light of day, to come to him.  And once within range, the striking distance, with great ferocity the monster attacks the unsuspecting prey, slowly taking from it its very life.

The scaly, fire breathing spiked tail ravenous creature has an insatiable appetite for lonely days, and that appetite cannot be satisfied.  Each night, as the last breath of the dying day is felt, the dragon’s lust for daylight offers me perchance the gratification of bidding ado to yet another lonely day.  When I fear that the bright sunlit day will never end the dragon appears, and that beast is in many ways, my salvation.

Each evening the unsuspecting sun travels to the very edges of the western sky unaware that there, hidden in a cloak of darkness, lurks the Black Dragon.  As the dragon unmercifully attacks the once great ball of fire the sun’s blood turns the sky orange, then red.  The darkness acts as if it were a ravenous carnivore, one that I have to come to know as the Black Dragon, as it kills and devours the day.

Just as I have no love for the unending sun-drenched days, nor do I harbor the slightest affection for the monstrous Black Dragon.  The gluttonous creature is merely a means to an end.  I pray that the black hearted dragon may indulge my candor.  I have no intemperate words to utter regarding the monstrous beast as I find that I must accommodate his existence. The dragon and I share an uneasy coexistence yet I ask not for the loathsome Black Dragon’s pity nor do I ask anyone else for that unwelcome gift.

When the funeral song for the sunlit day is sung I cannot find complete relief from its diurnal sadness as I know that the solitude I endure will be reborn in but a few hours when the dawning of yet another day will come, albeit vehemently unwelcome.  Although known to be one of little faith I pray that the good and gracious angels who once watched over me may someday return and bestow happiness to their helpless charge.

The tale of the dragon’s ferocity is carried on the winds that move across the land.  The red evening sky is looked upon with amazement and when the black monster sleeps the world is bright, but that brightness doesn’t bring happiness to some; and most assuredly joy doesn’t fill my heart when the Sun’s light warms the land below.

This world is filled with magic and each of us must find and possess the extraordinary vision to distinguish the dark and wicked magic from the bright and wondrous magic; and that my friends, can be so very difficult a task.

Unfortunately I find that my eyes are oversensitive to light and I cannot see that glorious and brilliant radiance which emanates from good magic.

There is an ancient and often spoken aphorism; my enemy’s enemy is my friend.  Well, the monstrous carnivore is not my friend but the fearsome beast does each day slay and bring an end to what I fear; the day in which I must live, today.

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