My harpooned Dragon’s, fallen and out of breath.
Gazing around, pleading, near death.
The slayers spear, protrudes from his scaly vest.
And I quietly hear his soulful pounding chest.
Quickly, I plunge my sword, cutting shard.
Removing the spears horrid barb.
My Dragon exhales a fearsome howl.
Eyes bulging, tears flowing down his jowl.
In agony, thrashing his spiky green tail.
Then slowly abating, like a windless sail.
Is he dying, lying there loudly groaning.
Nostrils snorting, neither afire nor smoking.
Suddenly, his left wing begins flapping.
And my Dragon’s head rises, stretching, arching.
Green horns twitching, like a mythical serpentine.
Yellow eyes glowing, like magical sunshine.
My Dragon’s revived.
And ready to skydive.