THE DRAGON

When we die,
time stretches like we are a child again
but indeed as perception slows it spirals
until two thoughts become one

And we are saved by biology
in finite repetitions,
termination is guaranteed
and then we are still

And forever we are still. And forever we are forgotten.
Wrapped by the dragon's frigid embrace.
Warmed by her fiery breath.
Fed by her earthen remains.
Feeding her with our own bodily substance.