• Flying through the timeless dawn,
    an ancient creature from the deep,
    horns and scales,
    flames and nails,
    as big as a house and as wise as an elf,
    great and mighty is he the king of dragons,
    gold and black,
    eyes dyed red with rage,
    filled with hatred,
    the men of the west have slaughtered his tribe,
    frustration he feels but wise he is,
    he waits to strike when he is strong and the enemy is weak,
    a drought he brings to the land,
    raining fire from the heavens,
    scorching with fire and ash,
    crys of fear and anger fill the sky,
    men get their spears,
    bows,
    and knives,
    they march to kill,
    they march to protect,
    the mighty king flys to avenge,
    flys to kill,
    flys to survive,
    blood,
    ash,
    fire,
    screams and war crys fill the night,
    the morning sun is dyed with the blood of thousands dead,
    disfigured bodys and glistening bones,
    glinting steal and piercing screams,
    the stench of blood and roasting flesh fills the day,
    pierced and broken the might king steal stands tall,
    the few whom are left alive see that the king is starting to weaken,
    the use what weapons are left and stab mercilessly,
    they can not fail for fear of what would happen to they're home land,
    the king knows he will not live,
    with his last remaining energy he flys off into the sun,
    lying alone,
    resting his head upon his rocky throne,
    he shuts his eyes for the very last time,
    lifeless... the mighty dragon king is dead,
    the mountains and heavens weep,
    they shall never be able to caress the wings of the king,
    all the mighty rulers of the sky were all at their eternal rest....