Silent book page 2
"Forgotten wells stand cold,
Heather faded for miles around,
And I watch as the sun rolls down
The cold slope of the skies,
Losing all remnants of warmth.

Granite slopes are the color of night,
Arid land is the color of blood,
And the amber eyes of the dragon
Reflect in a crystal stone -
I guard this treasure.

I damn this accursed gold
For its treacherous gleam of warmth,
I recall the one who once,
Once was winged -
She died long ago.

Beyond mounts, beyond seas, far away,
Where people don't see and gods don't believe -
There the last of my tribe will easily
Spread his wings - iron feathers,
A pattern painted with scales,
Will dispel storms in manifestation of passion,
Soaring into the clouds in defiance of fate,
Immensely dangerous, insanely beautiful.
And that's the best magic in the world,
The sun exults on ridge's blade,
And that's all, and there's nothing else -
There's only the sky, the eternal sky.

And the heroes feast under shade
Of oak royal chambers,
Boasting over heady cup
To obtain secret treasure,
And not later than Christmas ..."