Doom of the Dragon, by Hannah

The dragon grasps
In crooked claws
A glimmering prize
That warrior draws.
A golden glint
Like sun on steel,
A stanger fright
She never feels
As she draws the sword
From worn scabbard,
Taking poise
Like one well traversed.

The dragon roars
At her defiance,
But not yet ready
To strike alliance
With the one that defy
His power and might--
He belches fire
Into the night.
The warrior, ready
Thrusts her shield,
With flames reflected,
She wields the steel.

Striking out
With speed of light
And slashing foe,
An awesome sight,
The maiden cries
Like the warriors do,
"I'll take thee down,
By my life, I do!"
The moss green scales
Of the dragon's side
Slow their heaving
As he dies.

The maiden wipes
Sweat from her eyes,
Glancing about
As the blood slowly dries
And clots like fat
On a stale fried hen
On the blade of the sword
That has killed yet again.
Fear not, fair maiden,
Adventure still lies
In the green valleys fair:
just open your eyes.

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