Dragon, dragon, blowing bright,
Casting forth great heat and light.
On my head it drys till dead;
Due the flames upon my head.

Your tail is long, your head held high.
So that someday I may die.
The heat of Hell, the scorching blow
That many poor souls have grown to know,
It causes me both fear and woe.

Although you roar and scream and wail,
It is all to no avail.
I conquered thee and thine hot Hell,
Wherein thou shalt forever dwell.
© marlenworks