Dragonborn (my poem)

In the age of the dragonborn the child's grey-blue eyes turn brown
Those pine tree branches are growing away from the oak's shade
Two dogs shall have their nightly walk despite the tempests
Reality is what one's condition renders inescapable

My poetry is but an attempt to record feelings. All poems are written in one go. I do not tend to their aesthetic appeal, as that requires extra processing which detracts from my truth in the moment.