I once thought of myself as a terrible Oily, sharp-clawed beast who could do no Right A black- scaled dragon with a heart darker still My father, the king, often told me I was The queen shuddered in my presence And so the scales grew and the fire built in my belly But I rarely let it out Or else the kingβs men would banish me from the kingdom And so I told myself that I was evil And I wished that I could be a human too So I took my claws to my scales and tried to scratch them off I filed my fangs into a grin and tried to pass them as human But it never worked, they always grow back And I was covered in scars and thicker scales than before I was so lonely in my cave And every day the king hunted me I scratched as the scales grew thicker Covered in oily filth I could never wash away But then the Lion came And maybe change wasnβt all instantaneous Sure the scratches were painful As the lion went deeper into my heart Than I ever could As he ripped off my scales And showed me that my heart is good And washed away the mire I was trapped in So that I can fly again At times that old fire still burns But not in rebellion or fear, no To protect those who cannot protect themselves