You are the last dragon,
Soaring, alas in the sky.
The clouds pummel your form.
Your hoard is defeated.
The earth is ageing beneath you.
Your scales are separating from your carcass.
The knights are abroad,
They chase you for your worth.
Your intrinsic fire is dimming.
Afterthought: I wrote this as part of an exercise in Mrs. Quam's English class in tenth grade. We were supposed to be copying some other dude's style--which I hate to do. I like dragons, though, so I kept this one. My friend, Natasha, wrote something about the last "arrow frog." Dragons are totally kewler than frogs. Of course, I wrote about dragons a lot in her class. If Mrs. Quam remembers me, it is probably for my constant allusion to the 'hoard.