Tag: dragons

Posted in Poetry, Prose

Dragons in the Dark

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

dragon10

My dragons burrow deep and sleep the sleep of the evil.  They lie in wait.  They make sure I have my defenses down; that I am once again comfortable in my own skin.

My peripheral vision sees the shadow of these beasts occasionally as they melt into the background.  I try as I might to catch them before they are loose, but they are too clever.

These dragons will creep into my room and sit at the foot of my bed, watching as I slumber.  I have fooled them only once; feigning sleep as their foul breath assaults my senses.  The stench of their evil is almost overwhelming.

I have awakened on many moonless nights, sure I would see them.  My heart is in my throat as I sweep the room.  I must be sure to catch them if they linger.  All that lingers is the cold sweat that penetrates my gown and their stench.  Sleep will elude me this night, for the dragons have already started their assault.

With the dawn, I greet the day with trepidation.  How will the dragons manifest this time?  Will I find myself once again in the dark?  Will I be alone with my dragons, with nothing more than hope to see my way back into the light?

As I lock the front door and walk down the street, I can feel the dragons’ breath on my neck….

Amazing image found on Google Images.  Credit to the wonderful artist that created it.  

Copyright (C) 2014 Penny Wilson All Rights Reserved

*This piece was written about my struggle over the years with Depression. I’m in a good place these days, thank God.  But my mind has been on the ongoing struggle that many have with Mental Illness.  The Struggle IS Real.  For Help and articles that I’ve compiled and written on the subject, please visit my Mental Health Help Page HERE.

Please also see my recent post, asking for your help with much needed resources, HERE. Thank you for joining me on this journey. ❤

Posted in Stories, Writing

Fume-#writephoto Dragons Do Breath Fire

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

Peering out from behind the boulder, I could see the plume of it’s breath. The fume, a cloud; glowing.  It mixed with the mist off the lake until the entire night air was lit.  Soon they’d see.  Maybe throwing rocks to wake him wasn’t a good idea.  But now, now they would believe me.  Dragons do breath fire.

Copyright (C) 2019 Penny Wilson

*This is in response to Sue’s Thursday #writephoto prompt.  If you would like to join in on the fun, you can find out more about it HERE. 

Posted in depression, Life, mental illness, Prose

If You’re Happy And You Know It

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

I’m happy.  I don’t really know why, but I feel really good.  My life is going well and I’m just… happy!

Maybe it seems strange to you that I would talk about happiness this way, but I am so grateful for the happy days that I have to express it.

I’ve talked before about depression and the effects it’s had on my life at different times.  I never know when it will strike again.  And the bitch about depression is the fact that you don’t know that it’s happening to you until it’s got you by the throat.

You wake up one day, look around you and wonder how your world has become so dark, bleak and unforgiving.  You know you have many blessings and many good things/people in your life.  But the depression robs you of the ability to find joy in these things.

The joy you once found in music, or writing, or singing, playing the bongos, or anything else that gave pleasure is gone.

Depression creeps in and wedges into the little cracks and crannies of your life until it’s a full blown Dragon sitting on your chest.

The other thing that depression can do is make you immobile.  I don’t mean that you suddenly can’t walk.  What I mean is that the day to day things that used to be so easy are now mountainous to you.

The simple act of washing those few dishes in the sink, or taking that load of laundry out of the dryer, are acts that are just too hard to deal with at the moment.

Just existing is difficult.

You stop interacting with other people and you isolate yourself.  Dealing with others is again, just too difficult.  When you are in a full on assault from depression, you put on a brave face, so people don’t see.

Then you isolate yourself even more.

It becomes a terrible cycle.  The more you isolate yourself, the worse your depression becomes.  The worse your depression becomes, the more you isolate yourself.

People who have never experienced this don’t understand it.

Then one day, you’re looking out the window and suddenly the colors are more vibrant, like someone lifted the film from the window so that you have a clear view.   You WANT to go for a walk, or wash the car, or visit family.  Out of the blue you realize that you’re singing along with the radio.  One day you’re sitting at the keyboard and realize that you’re WRITING again!

And just like that, you’ve made it through.  The depression has passed.  Maybe you had a change in medication, maybe you’ve had a change in your life, or maybe you just rode the wave.  Whatever it is, it’s gone.

Will it be back?  Will the dragons come creeping in the night to hide under my bed, waiting for their chance?  I don’t know.

I DO know that today, I am happy and for that I’m grateful!

Posted in Life, Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized, Writing

U – Unseen

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

warrior

U – Unseen

Head up, shoulders back.

The water is a bitter drink, the air, like daggers tear at her heart.

She pushes back; those unseen dragons weigh heavily.

She has the resolve of the Ancients.  Her battle will forge the way.

Her daughter and her daughter after that will also chase the darkness.

 

Posted in Prose

I Believe In Heroes

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

This man was a mere mortal of flesh and blood.  The light I saw in his eyes was that of an honorable man.  The honor this man carried with pride, was that of rare and unimaginable beauty.

I knew he was a man, with weaknesses as men have.  But I saw what was inside.  He was a Nobleman of Old.  He saw the demons and beasts that few of us see.  He would give his life to slay them.

He thought his life was better served on the battlefield.

He relied on his instincts and his brethren in the heat of battle.

My hand touched his, one last time, as he turned his shining eyes away.  I knew he couldn’t stay.  He had paused on his quest just long enough to give me a glimpse of himself.  There were battles to be fought and dragons to slay.

Posted in Prose

Dragons in the Dark

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

dragon10

My dragons burrow deep and sleep the sleep of the evil.  They lie in wait.  They make sure I have my defenses down; that I am once again comfortable in my own skin.

My peripheral vision sees the shadow of these beasts occasionally as they melt into the background.  I try as I might to catch them before they are loose, but they are too clever.

These dragons will creep into my room and sit at the foot of my bed, watching as I slumber.  I have fooled them only once; feigning sleep as their fowl breath assaults my senses.  The stench of their evil is almost overwhelming.

I have awakened on many moonless nights, sure I would see them.  My heart is in my throat as I sweep the room.  I must be sure to catch them if they linger.  All that lingers is the cold sweat that penetrates my gown and their stench.

My hands shake as I toss my gown to the floor.   Sliding back into bed, I stare at the ceiling.  Sleep will elude me this night, for the dragons have already started their assault.

With the dawn, I greet the day with trepidation.  How will the dragons manifest this time?  Will I find myself once again in the dark?  Alone with my dragons, with nothing more than hope to see me way back into the light.

As I lock the front door and walk down the street, I can feel the dragons’ breath on my neck….

 

Amazing image found on Google Images.  Credit to the wonderful artist that created it.  

(C) 2014 Penny Wilson

Posted in Poetry

Rusty Knight

Posted on by Penny Wilson Writes

It had been so cold and alone, those days in the dark.

There was a sadness on her soul and also in her heart.

She looked to the stars, the moon and the sun.

Warmth had turned it’s back, she thought she was done.

A Knight appeared before her and reached out to take her hand.

He was unlike any other in this unforgiving land.

His eyes shone bright, through the armor of rust.

He was covered with honor, love and trust.

The armored arms enveloped her; strong but soft and warm.

She was safe, she was safe, she would come to no harm.

She looked up into the eyes of the Rusty Knight’s eyes of green.

Her soul was being cared for, like it had never been.

He said “Take my hand M’lady, for treasures are lain before you.”

“Treasures more precious than diamonds.  Your soul to be born anew.”

“Your soul in my care will be loved adored and cherished.

Let no dragon cross my path or it is he who will perish.”

She laid her heart at his feet and trembling, took his hand.

Her future was in his eyes, her past now a wasteland.

Beautiful artwork found on Google Images by Berncore on deviantART