The hero grabbed for his blade,
rode past the destroyed wagon,
in to combat he would wade,
going after the dragon.
Destruction throughout the land,
starting at the city’s keep,
and then to the oceans sand.
Many deaths, the people weep.
The hero took up the task,
it wasn’t the reason why,
but in glory he would bask.
The truth, he just had to try.
Clad in armor, headed west.
The winged beast had been this way.
He knew he would do his best,
and kill the thing on this day.
Very soon he came on it,
as he leapt off of his horse,
the dragons fire didn’t hit,
and the hero knew his course.
Quick his feet picked up the pace,
his blade arm holding steady,
he got up close to its face.
For this part he was ready.
The blade pierced it in its eye,
then after went for its neck,
the man wasn’t being shy,
about giving holy heck.
More and more of the sharp jabs,
the creature howled out in pain,
the very last of the stabs,
pierced through the core of its brain.
He was humble through and through,
Resisting recognition.
To himself he had been true,
helping others his mission.
But his legend lives today,
when men fill up a flagon,
they thank the lord for the way,
the hero slew the dragon.
Poetry
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I love old-fashioned knight’s tales! Well done!