The child once dreamed,
Of a world where he’d
Wear a helmet and armor.
With a stick as sword,
He swore on his word
To go to the cave of the Dragon of Sorrow.
And when he awoke
There was a great bloke—
A great king of high honor.
‘You’re awake!’ said he,
‘A knight, you may be,
Should you take sword and slay the Dragon of Sorrow.’
The boy was enthralled,
And prayed to his lord
To beat this winged horror.
With a sword well-made,
Not at all afraid,
He swore that he would kill the Dragon of Sorrow.
Across rivers and lakes,
The boy knight made haste,
High with his sword’s great power.
His virgin blade cried
From bloodlust inside—
Eager to deal death to the Dragon of Sorrow.
Light shied from the cave,
The darkness, he braved—
Brightened by his sword’s shimmer.
On a hill of bones,
Carved into a throne,
Sat with a cruel smile the Dragon of Sorrow.
‘Boy knight, comes to kill
A dragon of ill will.’
Its growl brought on large tremors.
‘Yet, no better be
The bloke who sent thee;
Who sends boy knights before a dragon of sorrow.’
The sword fell from hand,
As the boy knight ran;
This was a fatal error.
It had no remorse
And with flames so fierce,
The monster told its kill of a pact of sorrow:
‘The king made a deal,
So that he may feel
Safe from a beast of terror. Cruel kings feed me dreams,
And ignore the screams:
Flesh reduced to bone! Fantasy brought to sorrow!’
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