Author Information
The Last Dragon
Upon a realm where shadows gently play,
Where ancient tales in whispered echoes stay,
There dwelled a beast of fire, fierce and wild,
The last of dragons, mythic, undefiled.
Its scales aflame with colours none could name,
A creature born of magic's mystic flame,
From realms beyond the grasp of mortal minds,
A relic of the past, where lore entwines.
With wings that spanned the breadth of endless skies,
It soared above the world with wistful eyes,
A sentinel of days when knights were bold,
When quests for honour paved the path of old.
Yet now it stands, the final of its kind,
A guardian of secrets, intertwined,
Its fiery breath a testament to days,
When kingdoms flourished in enchanting haze.
In solitude it roams, a living tale,
A memory of lands where legends sail,
The last of dragons, fierce and free it flies,
Against the fading light, it still defies.
Let us not forget this wondrous sight,
A symbol of an age both fierce and bright,
The last of dragons, proud and strong it gleams,
A relic of the past, a realm of dreams.
