With jaws as sharp as razors these beasts have come to feast, their battered skin and broken wings had healed as fast as lightning.
With legs as big as tree trunks and feet with a pongy smell, their scales that crack and talons that smack they’re ready for the great attack.
Fast like a cheetah on they go, for now a whole herd was running like so.
The leader of the pack is like a nightmare starter, but then of course you have the wind dragons who are professional *******.
Smelly of course but still on they go, treading happily sand, stones and grass to snow.
The dragons of sort were vegans of course, but they eat with their claws not a knife and fork.
As they stomp along they break the earth and many patches of Astro turf.
Their dragon skin scratchy like sandpaper, the dragons are meanies so killed a dozen thought to be dragon tamers.
As they hike they see a witch who told the prime minister but he was to busy heeling a blister
They carried on running and saw a smurf as rude as can be, he shot them with his NERF.
Now stomping like madness they found the place at last so now they were running faster then fast.
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