422. Dragon Lord
Last of the great dragons, guardian of the king's gold,
Deepest cavern dweller, a burning furnace in the cold,
Massive winged beast, claws clenched on solid ground,
In total darkness it waits, alert to any suspicious sound.
Born out of sheer convenience, into a life most hard,
Shackled securely in chains, a weapon used to guard,
No loving mate, or companion, a life slated to be alone,
Lacking any community, buried deep within solid stone.
Ravenous hunger and thirst, with no chance of relief,
A life of endless waiting, a destiny filled with only grief,
Alive but never knowing life, existing in a world of death,
Lacking kindness, hatred spewing forth with each breath.
Warriors look for riches, search within the caverns of mold,
Human bones litter the floor, man's insidious need for gold,
Proud mortals seeking glory, home from a successful raid,
Greed clouds the judgement, strength comes from the blade.
One by one they enter, no human is ever destined to leave,
Their names are now forgotten, no one left behind to grieve,
Men of power feel immortal, believe they hold their own fate,
Above the brave men gather, unaware what below lies in wait.
- Glenn Bergen, ( Ravensheart ), © Copyright, 2017.