Long before the sky found its name,
the dragon rose —
not to conquer, but to protect.
Its scales carry ancient patterns,
its breath weaves silence,
and behind it, the full moon glows —
not chased, but cherished.
This dragon does not roar.
It waits.
Not out of fear,
but because it understands:
True power lies not in fire,
but in knowing when to be still.
Surrounded by lotus and cloud,
it reminds us:
What is sacred must be guarded,
not with force —
but with wisdom.
