The moon is shining brightly, lighting
tree trunks and bouncing off of snow.
Crystalline trees are creaking quietly.
My feet are bound on long, thin slats,
wood quietly sliding over all of
the ever growing, falling snow.
Ahead a cave is surrounded by…EW!
The yellow snow is covering bones
and armor plate, all cracked, burnt.
Once borne by knights and brigands both.
My friend was never good at picking
up trash and other vile debris.
And holding my nose, I kind of boldly
walk into the Dragon’s warm lair.
The beast did slowly turn its head,
And quietly greeted me
: Hello.
I asked
Why do dragons speak in Riddles?
Surprise, He answered plain.
So few will want to hear the Truth
And, the point of lies are lost on Dragons,
so Dragons leave riddles for men to follow.
