Blog PostsFriends | The Last of His KindIt was a horde the likes of which he’d never seenHis lord had sent him to strike the blow A sword magically blessed Entering the lair he had walked the labyrinth cave He walked steadily and bravely ‘ford Eagerly to his final test Then the last great bearded one calmly lifted its head The knight drew sword and drew breath Ready for the terrible fight But the gray eyes were wise, forlorn and years ancient And the wyrm fire never erupted forth And something was not right Still the deed was done, unceremoniously quick as wind The cavern shook and golden cups fell All was done and all was still The sad eyes of defeated foe made his feet fail him then How could he recall this tale to others? Where was the heroic kill? But now the puzzle for tears began a sadness gripped him But did he cry for that last noble dragon Or for the last slayer himself? |