Dragon of Dreams

I once dreamt in the voice of another. I told myself such an incredible story, one about a great man possessed by his own evils. He grew powerful in his lifetime, ruled great kingdoms, and engaged such ludicrous pleasures--one could never know! His downfall comes quickly, and the kingdom he had built for himself crumbled; it was he, in fact, who tore it down - brick by brick, he undid his own work; the evil serpent began eating its own tale. How sick this snake became - but only for a short while. I, after all forgot to say, that this  man was deemed a great dragon. But upon eating himself, revealed its true form; all that was left after destroying its fractured soul, was a worthless shell of his former self: a dragon with no legs, no breath, no wings and no roar; a mere snake. This snake could still slither and if its teeth ever failed, there was its venom. And so the great man did not fall with his kingdom as a captain does with his ship; he took flight, and engaged once again in the fight of evils and pleasure. Without a soul, no man is great.

Yet I only came to realise the significance of this story upon - nothing but chance - meeting the fellow. He was short and skinny, never so good looking in comparison to the man in the incredible story. The man talked and talked, nothing left of his breath but poison; and his roar--what an annoying yap it had become. The snake took true form, when the haze of my dreams had fallen from my eye lids. Seeing clearly, I had to see myself away from the snake. How stories of greatness worry the true soul. Goodness resides on the other side of this deep spirit. Seek it and keep it close; there are so many dangers in this world.