Lord of Storms

Once, as I was a young brat who thought I could change the world just by yelling at it hard enough, some stories brewed on my mind about storms and dragons. About wings, glory, war and the fight for reality itself.

Once, as I was but a dreamer, the ideas were more important than their applications or any concept of practicality.

Once, as I was content with playing games and writing poems, texts about a life never lived, never truly experienced until the bubble burst.

Not anymore.

I once feared a storm that was coming, but i didn't understand it. For I could never truly see it until it engulfed me.

It tore me apart, it ripped me from limb to limb, it's winds cutting my skin and chilling my bones. My body trashed along as I could impose as much resistance to it as leaves and sticks. I fought and fought and fought. It was unmoved and I was hurt and broken.

It was when it occurred to me that there was no avoiding this.

For you cannot ever outrun a storm.

For the storm was always of my own creation.

So I took it inside, and it changed me, as I changed it. I no longer fought it, but once a part of it, it was a part of me as well, and I could control it.

I grew old. I grew more lawful and stable.

The boy and angel and warrior that always feared the dragon was a dragon king of his own now, and a lord of his own storm kingdom.

No longer darkness would be denied or fought, but harnessed for it's importance.

"Care for dreams, as you become responsible for their time on reality"