A dragon in the misty meadow rides on the skies of lore.
The sorcerer summons spells and casts them to the floor.
A green cloud plumes aloft the mystical magic ground.
The witch clenches her broom, readjusting her blackened crown.
A knight ensues valiantly toward the hellish threats.
He aims to stop the evil at once before the rising sun sets.
Alarmed at once the witch she perceives the warlocks warlocky spell.
and incants a notion to concoct a potion to summon the hounds of hell.
The hounds from hell and the green cloud propels the deadly duo to flight.
The knight races forward, closing in on the hoard at the brink of the end of the night.
At the brink of the end of the night,oh what a magical sight;
the knight races forward closing in on the hoard at the brink of the end of the night.
The dragon looms forward as the knight unsheathes his sword atop the serpentine beast.
He yells a battle cry, declaring: "prepare to die",whispering to the dragon,"lets feast".