Flashes of light bring the world into view for an instant,
releasing brightness into a land of darkness, of pouring rain.
Though whether dark or light, it has always felt the same.
Another flash, and a shrill shriek echoes across the sky,
a dark shadow and a flap of wings draws dangerously close,
diving for a lone figure who bolts, her last dash of hope.
Across an old, rotting wood and rope bridge she scrambles,
the red eyes of the dragon burning through the fragile skin.
One misstep and they lose footing, falling down to the abyss.
Light flickers above, but the black blankets the land entirely.
Falling, whistling win