The Oracle by Eamon Pereira

A look into what will become,
        Walks closest to the sky,
        Atop the cold and windy mountains,
        Where dragons sleep and fly.

The oracle does not sit still,
        Hoofs take him over stone,
        In height he found his solitude,
        Where he could think alone.

A party tried to reach him,
        And set off from the city,
        Those who’d tried before them,
        Looked upon with pity.

They made it to the mountains,
        Their hearts full of desire,
        With want to know what lay ahead,
        They braved the wyvern’s fire.

Their muscles fuelled by courage,
        They slew the ancient beast,
        They went on signing songs of glory,
        Not a worry in the least.

But winged basilisks were nothing,
        Compared to what came out,
        From cracks and clefts upon the walls,
        That night when fires went out. 

The sun rose above the peaks,
        The party was distraught,
        Their numbers had been more than halved,
        And they hadn’t even fought.

‘We must turn back now’, one said,
        That night they all could die,
        But the leader shook his head and smiled,
        The oracle was nigh.

On they marched through weary days,
        Their drive began to dwindle,
        Guarding camp each time they slept,
        Their safety was the kindle.

One day the winds were twice as strong,
        Thick rain made things amiss
        Two slipped and stumbled from the path,
        And plunged to the abyss.

Those who lived were held by fear,
        They decided to turn back,
        Though they never made it to Ahoy,
        But became a dragon’s snack.

The brave leader did not falter,
        He would not be deterred,
        He kept on climbing on his own,
        To have his future heard.

His supplies were gone, his water too,
        The freezing winds had chilled his bones,
        So he huddled up inside a cave,
        Away from heavy snow.

And in that cave he heard a sound,
        Of clack on solid floor,
        A wizened goat entered alone,
        He blinked at what he saw.

He had reached what he had so long sought,
        And plunged down on his knees,
        The oracle did tell his future,
        But the man it did not please.

The words were twisted and unclear,
        At the goat then he did call,
        It makes no sense tell me again,
        But the goat said that was all. 

The oracle then bounded off,
        And he slept until first light
        And when it came he left the cave,
        Feeling like he’d lost the fight.

He made it back to home alive,
        Not the same as when he’d left,
        The words has eaten at his mind,
        Turned him sanity bereft.