A dragon lay upon a hoard of coins, treasured items
She'd often would nap, not fully so, rarely sleeping
She was ancient, remembered by all within her reach
And while she had an ire that could be brought forth
She was also wise, with no reason to kill, or harvest
Human and Elf kingdoms paid her homage, respect
But Dwarves and their armies sought to bring death
They'd also hoarded treasure, gold coins and more
The Dwarves saw her as just a rival, without worth
In her few dreams the Dragon dreamt of a new land
Where there'd be no war, envy, nor hatred of others
The rivers would run with fish reflecting in the sun
And the hoard she slept upon would all be children
Never growing old, all being loving and beautiful
As of now, it isn't known if the Dwarves killed her
But we know someone, somewhere, spoke to her
Because we remember, the memories of a Dragon
We ought to find them worthy and a feeling of awe
And even if her dreams never came true or happened
The world was changed by the knowledge of change
The Dragon slept, dreaming of world different
Her wisdom found in those dreams was kind
And when have you imagined a kind Dragon?
