The wrath of the dragon kept in your cave.
Covered in your greed, barely room to breathe.
You bejewel it enough to cover up its shine.
Feed it til it’s empty and force it to hide.
It is something to fear, something to fight.
A creature you can never lead into the night.
But a dragon is meant to fly.
The cave will rumble and fire will not comply.
With heart and wings, your beast will be seen.
In the expanse, unforgivably obscene.
All scales and flames, wild and without reigns.
An empty cave, dusty jewels, a journey unpaved.
a wild whisper 