Under the glistening sky of Morrowsedge,

Two warriors, accompanied by their pledge:

To vanquish the dragon that ran amok,

And terrorised the town without cease or stop.

With their quick wits and clever planning,

(And tin foil to avoid a fiery tanning)

They soon arrived, winds blest,

To the apex of the dragon’s nest.

A peculiar thing there they were to reap:

The ruthless dragon was sound asleep.

They climbed atop its magma dwelling,

Any hint of noise, an intended quelling.

Alas, their goal was fully in sight,

An end to their toil, strife and blight.

They quickly rejoiced, but in their haste

Disrupted the peace in the quiet place

The dragon awoke! Wailing and screaming,

An abrupt end to its prolonged dreaming.

Their cover blown, the warriors fledged,

Hand in hand, they neared the edge.

A last look back brought the tale to a close;

The menacing dragon, a maniacal foe.

The warriors fled, only themselves to blame,

They vowed to slay the dragon again.