Why stay with the Dragon,
With those horns,
Those imperfects,
And the pain of the fire?

Why not go be with a Princess,
With that gorgeous hair,
Those eyes,
And the gentleness of a maiden?

Perhaps,
You,
My dear Knight,
Are used to those horns,
The imperfections,
And what abusive nature?

But why?

Why not just run until the Dragon is far behind you,
To far to return,
Far enough that you cannot hear her weeping?