The Remains

How could I do this to myself? Wasn't I the ambitious girl? The one to fight and strive till she reaches her goals? What happened?
And by the time I realize how badly i've screwed it all up, its too late.

Too late, because the day has passed, its already twilight.
Too late, because now what will follow is darkness of the night.
Too late for the weak, dejected dragon to use his dying might.
Too late, as he has fallen too low to climb up the scary hieght.
Too late to look forward in the hope of something bright.
Too late even to turn back and try to set things right.
Too late to gather enough courage to put up this last fight.
Too late to come out of the numbing pain from the shackles that bind him tight.

The dying dragon now waits in the dungeons, hope hopen for the warmth of light.
The dying dragon remains in torture and thinks of what remains...

What remains is a rising guilt, for what he did wasn't right.
What remains is half-hearted sympathy at the poor soul's plight.
What remain are the distant groans of buried-alive pleasure and delight.
What remains is the constant fear:
Will he be able to knock at the Gates of Success,
because the path ahead is too demanding and the gates are out of sight.