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Journey of the Dragon Tamer

As a boy, he dreamed of shinning gilded armor,
diamond studded glistening steel.
A shimmering inlaid heavy shield.
Five foot broadsword, double edged,
razor sharp.
A ten foot long lance.
And a massive horse-- white with a tan tail and mane;
A big, brave mount.

He practiced knighthood in the woods.
With a wooden sword daddy made for him
and a big long stick for a lance,
he charged the dragon tree on his imagined horse.
Again and again he attacked the dragon tree,
until he had killed all the dragons in the kingdom.
They were all dead, he was sure;
because it was getting dark,
time to go home.

Mamma fussed about his sweaty cheeks
as he settled in his chair at the kitchen table.
But, what he saw was the great queen fussing
about his claw slashed flesh
and dragon breath burned hair.
And it was a great chair he sat upon
at a royal feast for honored knights.

As he grew older, he dreamed of combat fatigues.
Air-mobile wings on his chest
and the Expert Infantryman's Badge.
Twelve inch survival knife, balanced,
razor sharp.
A machine gun-- seven point six two milimeter.
And a sixty-six milimeter rocket launcher.
Flame throwing, armor piercing, death from above.

Later, he began to dream nightmares of bloody battles.
The dragons were too many.
Too swift and deadly.
The comendations, heavy on his chest;
Crushed the truth of his soul
and crusted his heart with hate.
Then
the dragons bore into his mind.

In his mid thirties,
he lived the life of hopelessness;
destined to die in a drunken rage.
An emotionally shattered man, nearly dead.
He was told of a chance and a hope.
"Many do recover."
The dragons in his mind could not be slain,
but he learned that they could be tamed.


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