Back in the day, my brother was busy creating a fantasy world of dungeons, dragons, and interactive computer worlds. It held the working title of KOS, which didn’t stand for anything as far as I know. It was a world inhabited by heroes typical of many adventuring games. Besides being the first, and likely only, reader of this now ancient project I was involved only in the production of poems. Ideally, epic pieces that would capture the reader and enhance the flavour of the world. I didn’t get far with this project, however, digging through my remaining scraps I have dredged up this piece. It was to reflect one of the legends in a world dominated by heroic deeds – a celebration of one of the original six – at least that was the intention.
The most revered
The one they feared
The Black Dragon of Death
He rose up high
Into the deep blue sky
The Black Dragon of Death
Two eyes burned red
Filling all with dread
The Black Dragon of Death
Snout and body long
Emanating an eerie song
The Black Dragon of Death
Black scales of steel
Cold and hard to feel
The Black Dragon of Death
With fiery breath
Sharp claws of death
The Black Dragon of Death
To hunt and kill
And eat his fill
The Black Dragon came
At his sight
People fled in fright
When the Black Dragon came
All challengers tried
And all did die
When the Black Dragon came
He swung down low
His sharp teeth to show
The Black Dragon came
But from the east
From a land of peace
The Lone Rider came
On a stead of white
Riding hard that night
The Lone Rider came
Long back hair braided back
Her face set for attack
The Lone Rider came
She was a girl still young
When the battle begun
The Lone Rider came
And at the youth
He looked bemused
When the Lone Rider came
So he changed his goal
To the brand new foe
When the Lone Rider came
His eyes glinted bright
As he charged with might
When the Lone Rider came
He held back naught
As the two foes fought
When the Lone Rider came
The Rider in turn
Would quickly learn
From the Black Dragon of Death
For he had great power
As she fought that hour
The Black Dragon of Death
Her horse was lost
As from it she was tossed
By the Black Dragon of Death
The talons cut sharp
And her flesh they’d part
By the Black Dragon of Death
In the hour late
She nearly lost to fate
By the Black Dragon of Death
For her it looked ill
As more blood did spill
By the Black Dragon of Death
But a stab true and fierce
His armoured hide pierced
As the hands of DeHett
With a blood curdling cry
The Dragon would die
At the hands of DeHett