Running through lavender fields,
must protect myself with heavy shields
from that dragon; mean.
With eyes that gleam;
the fiery breath it wields.

I’ll rest under willows by the run,
when skies are pink at set of sun.
Away from monster’s gaze;
safe now from heated blaze.
Stealing sleep; no longer having fun.

Day started out with skies bright,
no worries far less danger in sight.
Then terrifying roar came;
life no more a game.
Heart skips a beat with fright.

Once awake grab shield and sword;
defensive stance with shoulders broad.
Ready for that foul beast
with sunrise in the east.
Whispering a prayer to my Lord.

Then I hear a thunderous cry;
scaly wings swoop down from sky.
I raise shield just in time
to stifle hot breath of thine!
Slashing sword across demon’s eye.

Shriek of pain that pierces ears;
wounded eye cries dark red tears.
Sword melts from acid blood;
yet creature crumples with a thud.
Last of a kind; no more fears.

With deed now done can rest with ease;
can see yellow birds flitter through trees.
Time to investigate my ****;
deftly felled with greatest skill!
Fiend raises head; the feel of sweltering breeze…



The feel of sweltering breeze…
I fall to my knees.
Flames engulf my form;
from this world I am torn.
Arrogance destroys with ease!

As I drift into the hereafter,
I can almost hear the demon’s laughter.
Only ashes remain in my stead,
always played it safe; yet still dead.
Foolish pride leapt from ground to rafter.

If only humble and cautious still;
would not be lost to dragon’s last will.
Now the hour for my soul is late,
no second chance; no new slate.
A pile of ash next to my ****.

Will songs be sung of hero’s tale?
How evil can no longer prevail?
Yet such tunes shall never reach my ears,
for in death one no longer hears.
Hidden from the living world beyond a veil.

To drift alone in this shade,
until consciousness begins to fade.
No hero’s banquet will I attend;
No afterlife of perfect blend.
Only of silence this kingdom is made.

No tomb shall mark my resting place.
No traveler will bow with honor or grace.
No maiden will lay down flowers.
Only stormy skies will offer showers;
No statue there, with likeness of my face.

For a time will lay my rusty shield
and hilt of sword I did boldly wield.
But long since my ashes have blown away
with wind and rain day after day,
my soul shall rove this lavender field.