The Ballad of the Lone Dragon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


No one knew where the beasts had come from; No one knew where they went. But one thing was indeed for certain; He shan’t waste time to lament.

Submitted: September 13, 2018

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Submitted: September 13, 2018

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Once there was a man who rode gloomy and forsaken,

His ragged clothing, his dark brown steed.

His thoughts turned to lives now lost

Brought to a kingdom taught not to plead.

 

And so he entered unbidden to the nearest town,

He stopped at an inn in which comfort he sought.

And had a sizable urn of clear distilled gin,

For sustenance in his stomach in which he had naught.

 

The modest tavern with simpers and ballads.

The bustling borough and the merry old days;

The nation filled with life and prosperity,

The niveous winters and summer Mays.

 

Then they came unwelcome in a formulated assault,

The kingdom suffused with glowing molten fire.

Wreaked havoc in the land, beasts roaring and thrashing

In the gloomy night sky they roared a boisterous choir.

For most near a decade and so he trekked,

A tiring journey with no clear end.

To finally slay the almighty Dragon Lord

So their displeased souls shall finally ascend.

 

Who was once the captain of the King’s chevalier;

The reigning champion of each warrior’s tourney;

With regalia to wear and foods to eat,

Now but a wineskin to help with the journey.

For they had been asleep in their cottage home

When the dragons came and burned it all.

It smashed into the King’s mighty fortress

With a thunderous deafening squall.

 

No one knew where the beasts had come from;

No one knew where they went.

But one thing was indeed for certain;

He shan’t waste time to lament.

Once he had his fill of grief,

He set out with sword and steed.

For years and years and years he rode,

Reciting the Warrior’s Creed.

 

“O, our duty shall be first and foremost,

We protect the King with our life.

There shan’t be one to stand in our way,

Not even our lovely wife.”

 

And so for nigh a decade went by;

With him but sword and rein in hand.

A lifeless soul in an animate man

Unable to return to his rightful land.

 

And his horse grazed by the willow when perchance permit

An unusually large fowl passed overhead.

And upon closer inspection he saw what it was;

A type of maroon griffin with a black dragon’s head.

 

So he leapt unto his steed and gave ceaseless chase

Speeding towards the ever-retreating adumbration.

And so for half a day they rode and rode;

Two entities gaining ceaseless acceleration.

 

With the pursuer’s luck the dragon’d finally receded

To a green open meadow with sheep and cattle.

And so he unsheathed his great steel saber

Poised, armored, and ready for battle.

 

After a half-day of work the deed was complete

And he sat by the carcass and took a long breather.

While thousands of wyverns sat far away, waiting

As he readied himself to fight yet another.

 


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