The rustic dragon soared,

Over the burned land.

It’s crimson red,

Scales ready for battle.

The dragons scarlet eyes,

Burned like charred embers.

It’s tough teeth,

Tore apart it’s feast.

The dragons crispy dry tongue,

Waiting for human blood.

The majestic wings rest by its side,

Waiting to pounce.

It’s claws dig into the surface,

Like a dagger.

You’ve reached hells end.