Poor dragon

(Pretty random, I warned you)

Burninating the country side,
Burninating my inner child,

The dragon pouts and glares at wee ones,

He frolicks in the field when no-one can see,
And swipes at wee maidens grinning with glee,

He’s a devil, a rebel, a danger to himself,

His cunning is sickly,

He’s a master of disguise,
But when you look past those devil-lit eyes…

You’ll see that he’s hurt,
Broken inside,

That poor dragon,

That poor, poor dragon just wants to be alone,
He only bites and burns when provoked,
So please cruel world put down your stones,

Leave that great dragon with glistening teeth,
And put your vile sword back in its sheath,

That dragon needs some time off,
Being raucous full time is hard enough,

So lets just pretend dragons don’t exist,
For a few million years,
He can lay and rest,

Then when he wakes full of energy and fire,
We can all run and scream until we retire.