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The dragons poem.

The dragon waits and waits, for its next prey. 

 

Its elongated, craggy-like claws tear anything in its sight. 

 

The dragons scaly, rough tail wraps itself around the glimmering chains as if it’s the dragons next feast. 

 

A pure anger builds up in its chest, bang and another bang. 

 

Its demon, flashy eyes scan around the cave, noone to be seen… 

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