He tips his talons on the bottle ink
and then the words flow on the still clean scroll,
words creating poems that will make you think
of journeys, magic, and a world so old.

He stands up all day to guard the scrolls' pile,
resting on the top of his huge, dear hoard,
but when a knight comes in, there is no fight:
he'll give them one tale, making a small roar.

The dragon poet is a gentle soul;
his goal is to show you his kind is not
like all those bad ones so obsessed with gold.

He shall fight you with smart figures of speech;
his mind is the best weapon that he's got,
'cause to a burned body, there's nothing to teach.