How strange.
The dragon,
which I'd trained so valiantly for,
expected to breathe fire and
spit flames,
turned out to be more like
a cowering puppy.
Hiding behind his hair,
eyes rarely meeting mine,
I could put the sword back in it's case.
I felt more of a beast than you.

How strange.
The struggle I'd imagined,
the whirlwind battle,
where I defeated my demons,
and the dragon,
turned out to be nothing but a mere
pillow fight.
I entered the lair,
to find nobody there.

How strange.
The dragon I thought I'd
fall in love with,
failed to flame the spark.
My heart remained
irritatingly unscorched,
nothing more than the odd
plume of smoke
wafting around us.
And that was mainly your cigarettes.

How strange.
The 'dragon',
with his timid tone
and reserved demeanor,
roared
"F R I E N D."
This knight in
not so shining armour
needs a dragon
who can grip her heart with their claw,
and turn it white hot with desire.
You,
my little 'dragon',
are not that.
But you will make a great
friend
anyway.