Ashes
The ash lay everywhere. The city, what was left of it, was covered, as if during the night a snow storm had come through, but this snow was not white and it certainly wasn't pure. It reeked of death. Life, once vibrant and pulsing, now lay dormant, black with burnt flesh and blood, brick and mortar. Everywhere the eye turned, nothing but ash, feet and feet of ash.
Pixabay
The dragon had watched for a long time, waiting. He knew, as long as the city was strong, he could not take it.
Gradually, over the long walk of time, tick, tock, tick tock, those who stood guard became less vigilant. They ate and became sleepy. They drank and became slow. They walked away from their posts.
They had been told the stories of the dragon, that he would return. They knew the tales from old, of how the dragon hated all creation and sought only to burn it into the ground. They heard the testimony of their fathers, how they had fought the dragons, keeping the city safe.
Gradually over the long walk of time, tick, tock, tick, tock, they forgot the stories, they mocked the tales of old, they no longer listened to their fathers.
Now the dragon waited. He would come. He would wait until they were all asleep, comatose in their drink and pleasures, then he would swoop in.
His breath would light the night. The inner, glowing embers of his evil heart would spew forth from his jagged mouth. All that felt the heat of his hatred would melt and burn. All that would be left was ash.
That is what he did. The dragon.
All that is left is ash.
“They do not know nor understand;
For He has shut their eyes, so that they cannot see,
And their hearts, so that they cannot understand.
And no one considers in his heart,
Nor is there knowledge nor understanding to say,
“I have burned half of it in the fire,
Yes, I have also baked bread on its coals;
I have roasted meat and eaten it;
And shall I make the rest of it an abomination?
Shall I fall down before a block of wood?”
He feeds on ashes;
A deceived heart has turned him aside;
And he cannot deliver his soul,
Nor say, “Is there not a lie in my right hand?””
““The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me,
Because the Lord has anointed Me
To preach good tidings to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord,
And the day of vengeance of our God;
To comfort all who mourn,
To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.””
The first portion of this post is a fiction piece written by Amy D. Christensen.